The Death of a Dream
by thenyxie
Summary: Part 1 of "The Splintered Tomorrow Arc", Epic, Complete. All the telepaths are dead, the Shadow King reigns supreme. Ororo and Logan lead the X-Men, Rogue leads the new Brotherhood, & Gambit finds his way back from Antarctica (GambitRogue)
1. TDOAD: Prologue

THE DEATH OF A DREAM (written 1998)  
  
Summary: Two years ago, all the telepaths were killed during a ferocious battle with the Shadow King, and now he holds this post-apocalyptic world beneath his heel. Brother kills brother, friends become enemies and new, unthinkable alliances are forged. Rogue leads the new Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, alongside Psylocke and the Shadow King himself, while Gambit finally returns home to find the X-Men a completely different team and the mansion grounds filled with graves. Though the story centers around Gambit and Rogue, many of the X-Men are featured in depth and share their moment in the spotlight.  
  
Continuity: This story would branch off from continuity around issue 77 of the X-Men, where they fight the Shadow King on the Astral Plane.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters featured in this story belong to Marvel and are used without permission, EXCEPT; Lasher, Irinee', and Jean-Luc II. They're mine. Any similarity to persons living, dead, imagined or otherwise is purely a result of your own paranoid mind :)  
  
This story has been reviewed by Dex! Wahoo! :) If you'd like to check it out, you can find it here http://www.themirrorsedge.com/fic/tdoad/tdoadreview.html  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
Rogue entered the citadel with tentative steps, every nerve standing on end with the presence of so much power contained in one place. She had been granted a special audience this day, a chance to grasp hold of her last dream or die trying. The sound of echoing footsteps surrounded her as she made her way through winding halls. Her own, she wondered, or his cronies keeping just out of sight? It didn't matter, she decided firmly, picking up her pace as she came closer to her destination of the center chamber. She hesitated on the threshold, one hand grasping the archway as if it held her fate. And indeed, it did. This was it, she knew. This was where she would cast her lot in this life. This is where she would throw away her past and become…what? Something more than what she was, for certain. For better, for ill? Did it really matter? Did she have anywhere else to go? No, she knew she didn't. She could never go back now, it was far too late for repenting.   
  
With a decisive push off the stone archway, she entered the chamber, eyes straining in the semi-darkness for a glimpse of the man she had come to see. His features were lost within the shadowy confines of the high throne, but it didn't matter. She knew that face as well as she knew her own. She had only to imagine and she could see him, sitting intently upon the throne, one hand rubbing the curve of his angular jaw in deep thought. Yes, she knew he was pondering her at this moment, even as she pondered him. It had been so many years…would she even be allowed a chance to speak?  
  
"Why are you here, child?," came the deep, resonant voice from high above her, interrupting her thought.  
  
"Because you are the only choice I have left," she responded without hesitation, almost sagging with relief at the familiar tone of his voice. It was good to know that something of the man she had cared for still remained.  
  
"And you would choose me only when there is nothing else left for you?" he asked, with just a hint of ire in his tone.  
  
"Home is the place that when you go there, they have to take you in," she answered quietly, evading the question but answering it nonetheless.   
  
"And you would call this home?" he asked, and she could almost see the eloquent gesture of his hand through the air, intimating the citadel around them.  
  
"Ah would," she said firmly, then paused, continuing in a somewhat more subdued voice. "Ah came here because ah need your help."  
  
"Hush child, speak no more. We know what you desire." A rustling came from the blackness above her, a movement of shadow within shadow, and her heart went cold with fear. That word.. "we"…it told her all she needed to know. And though she needed him, what he offered, could she stand to see him so changed?  
  
And then there was no time for further thought as he closed in upon her, hands outstretched. "You wish to have your power under control do you not? You know we can do this…and you know the price….," he trailed off teasingly, hesitating just a fraction of an inch from touching her.  
  
"Yes," her voice a bare whisper. "Yes, I will serve you."  
  
"Always and with all your heart?," he asked mockingly, the hint of a cold smile toying about his lips.  
  
"Yes," she whispered again, bowing her head with the weight of the admission. "With all my heart, always."  
  
"Then so let it be done, child. A touch here, a tuck there….removing the blocks which keep your power just beyond your control. We can rearrange your neural pathways in such a way that you will be able to not only control your power, but use it in ways you never thought possible." He touched his hands to her temples as he spoke, causing her to flinch despite her resolve.  
  
A dark chuckle emitted from deep within his throat as he regarded her with bemused gray-blue eyes. "Come now…are we so terrible? You once longed for our touch."  
  
She bit down on her lower lip, eyes closing in defeat and pain. He spoke only too truly, she knew. But then, he was no longer the man she had once thought she loved. She kept her silence, waiting for him to continue his work.  
  
"Very well then, child. Without further pretense, let us commence."   
  
She shuddered as his mind touched hers, almost reeling from the sheer power of its presence within her. Her heart was suddenly gripped by fear as she realized that he could simply take her mind and twist it, or blow it into a thousand tiny atoms. She was completely at his mercy. She almost changed her mind then, in that instant, but it was far too late for second thoughts.  
  
  
"Bear with us child," came the voice from far away, somewhere outside the white hot world of her mind. "This may hurt a little."  
  
The last sound she heard before the blackness claimed her, were her own screams.  
  
  



	2. TDOAD Chapter 1: Homecoming

CHAPTER 1: HOMECOMING  
  
"What de hell happened here, Stormy?" asked Gambit, a look of sheer astonishment on his face as he stood overlooking the graves about him.  
  
"The Shadow King," she stated simply, as if that explained everything. "And do not call me that Gambit. You push your luck just by being here."  
  
He could not even feel grief. Not yet. It was too soon, too much of a shock. His brain was still trying to assimilate the information she had given him. His eyes roved the grave markers and their loving epitaphs with utter disbelief. It couldn't be, it just couldn't. So many X-Men dead…. His eyes searched the stones, looking for one name in particular. He had not seen her among the remaining X-Men, and now, he could not find her here, either. Living or dead he could see no trace. He had to ask.  "Where is she, chere?"  
  
Storm stared at him levelly for a long moment, something like anger flashing in her ice blue eyes. "Gone, like the others," is all she replied, turning slightly away from his gaze for the first time.  
  
He forced himself to form the word, pushing it painfully through his rapidly tightening throat. "Dead?," he asked, putting as little emotion as possible into the question.  
  
"No. Not dead. Just gone."  
  
Relief coursing through him, he could hear her voice tightening with anger, and knew that he should not continue this line of questioning lest she become truly angry. He could not afford to alienate the X-Men now, not with the world in the state that it was. And still he could not seem to help himself. "Gone where?"  
  
She spun on him, blue eyes flaring white with her power as lightning crackled into life about her form. "I do not care!," she shouted angrily, stepping menacingly closer toward him.  
  
"Whoa, Storm. What Rogue did was unforgivable, but it wasn't his fault." It was Kitty stepping between them, Gambit recognized her from the brief time they had met once. Shadowcat, she called herself, as he remembered. Right now though, she seemed to be the voice of reason as Storm calmed herself, lightning fading with a hissing crackling of energy.  
  
"Perhaps not, Kitty. But I find it almost as hard to forgive him for what he has done." With a last glowering glance at Gambit, she turned and stalked from the graveyard.  
  
He sat in silence for a long moment, giving only a passing glance to Storm's retreating back before returning his gaze to studying the young girl before him. "Tell me, Kitty," he began,  pausing to light a cigarette and puff on it thoughtfully. "What de devil happened here?"  
  
She turned her eyes upon him, face set so hard that it may have well been carved from stone. "Exactly as Storm said: the Shadow King happened. What do you care anyway, Gambit? Rogue is alive, not here, but alive. There's no reason for you to stay, or pretend to care."  
  
"Dat's harsh, petite. Despite what I did in my past, I fought alongside de X-Men for a long time. Shed blood and tears with dem, laughed and loved wit dem.  Dey were de closest ting I ever had to a family," he crouched down, rocking back on his heels to look up and meet her gaze firmly.  
  
"Funny…Rogue once said the same thing. It seems a villain always returns to his roots though…Magneto, Rogue..probably even you."  
  
"Petite--"  
  
"Save it!," she snapped. "You wouldn't even be here if our numbers weren't so decimated right now. You want a place with us, Gambit? Earn it, prove it, be willing to die for it. Because if you betray us this time, you won't live to see another chance." And then she faded out of existence, cutting the conversation short and slipping through the ground as easily as a phantom.  No doubt taking a shortcut to the base of operations below ground, he mused.  
  
Sighing, he crushed out his cigarette in the grass, eyes drawn once again to the gravestones before him. So many dead, Rogue cast out from the group for some horrible crime he couldn't even imagine, finding himself back among his former teammates who would have sooner seen him dead than fight beside him, if things were different. Yes, the world was fast becoming a very strange place.  
  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Storm stood before a massive bay window within the mansion, arms folded over her chest as she watched Gambit, still sitting in the graveyard as if he had been frozen there. Sensing a presence behind her, she did not turn as she began to speak.  
  
"Am I being too hard on him?," she asked, her voice taut with the tension of conflicting emotions.  
  
"I dunno, 'ro," came the gritty voice from behind her. She could hear him moving closer, and a moment later, she sagged back into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I think that's up to you, darlin'."  
  
"Oh, Logan….," she sighed, comforted by his very presence, "with everything that has happened in the last two years, I cannot even seem to remember a time preceding this. I can barely recall a time when we fought for the good of humanity, a time before genocide."  
  
He nuzzled his head against her neck, kissing it softly before replying. "And that's exactly why we need everyone we can get right now. Even Gambit. Everybody has done things they regret, 'ro, and some of those mistakes can never be made up for."  
  
She could hear the change in his voice as he spoke, from gentle to deep sorrow in the space of a few words. "Logan," she turned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she faced him, "You did what you had to do…the Shadow King had her wrapped so tightly around his finger that there was almost nothing left to try and save—"  
  
"That's just it, 'ro. She shoulda never even been there." He drew back from her embrace, his face suddenly looking much older with the weight of emotion. "She was just a kid. We sent her away from the X-men to try an' keep her safe, an' he went after her anyway." He ran a tired hand through his hair then, heaving a resigned sigh. "I keep going through it in my head, over and over again after all these years. You're right. I never had a choice. It was kill or be killed. But that don't make it right."  
  
She moved to him, placing a hand upon his shoulder to comfort him. "I know Jubilation was like your own daughter, Logan. I am sorry it had to happen that way." It was all she could say. There were no words to soothe that kind of loss.  
  
"See, 'ro?," he turned toward her, taking her hand and looking at her earnestly. " I can't change what I did. I'm always gonna hate myself for it, I can never live it down or outrun it. I can't even make up for it. As much blood as I've had on my hands, hers is the only stain that don't wash clean. There's no forgiveness for me, and probably none for Gambit, either. The only thing that keeps me going is the good I'm doing. That…and you."  
  
She smiled then, leaning up to kiss him gently. For all that had been lost over the last two years, for all the death and pain, at least they had finally found each other, she thought. At least something good had come from it all. "What do you propose, then, my love?"  
  
"I say we give the boy a chance. He's never gonna forgive himself for what he's done, but you can bet he'll spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. We need that kind o' help."  
  
She nodded, then frowned. "But what of his love for Rogue? Do you not think that will have any bearing on his choosing of sides?"  
  
His eyes grew dark as he looked at her. "If it does, darlin', then I'll do what I have to do."  
  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
  
And in a citadel halfway around the world from her former teammates, the new leader of the Brotherhood awakened with a start.  
  



	3. TDOAD Chapter 2: Old Ghosts

CHAPTER 2: OLD GHOSTS  
  
Kitty was fuming as she paced back and forth through the living room of the mansion. Turning her angry gaze upon Storm and purposely ignoring the source of all her rage, she finally found her voice. "What do you mean he's going to be staying in the mansion?," she demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Gambit without turning.  
  
"Exactly what I said, Kitty. Gambit will be staying with us. We need all the help we can--"  
  
"Help? Like the Morlocks needed his help?," she fairly spat, her anger burning high. "Like Piotr and I needed his help? We nearly DIED because of this man!"  
  
"I have not forgotten," Storm responded stonily. "None of us will ever forget the horrors which occurred in the tunnels that day. You, Colossus and Nightcrawler all nearly died as a result of his actions. But now is not the time to dredge up past sins. What we are facing today demands that we all stick together."  
  
"I…," her rage seemed to drain at the mention of Nightcrawler. She had lost a lot of friends in her time, buried most of them…but Nightcrawler. Nightcrawler hurt the worst. "What are you saying?," she asked in an exasperated tone, flopping down on the couch. "That we should just forgive and forget and let him fight by our side without even proving himself first? Why? So he can stick the knife in our back that much more easily?"  
  
"What she's saying, darlin'," came a gravelly voice from the doorway, "is that if the Devil  himself showed up on our doorstep askin' to fight with us, we'd take him in."  
  
"Logan?," Kitty cried in disbelief. "You're in on this too?"  
  
"Desperate times, darlin', desperate measures." He shrugged lightly and leaned against the doorjamb, regarding her almost casually.  
  
"Katya," Colossus finally spoke up, his voice prodding and gentle. "Perhaps we should—"  
  
"Oh, Piotr, you too?," she asked in a resigned tone. "Fine." She leaped from the couch and began stalking toward the doorway. "If you all say he's part of the team, he's part of the team. But I don't have to be happy about it." And with that, she pushed past Logan from the room.  
  
A moment of silence ensued, and then Gambit spoke up, clearing his throat nervously. "Dat girl quite a spitfire, no?"  
  
"Da," agreed Colossus, watching Kitty's exit from the room with something like pride.   
  
The silence stretched wide again, each X-Man looking from one to the other, none knowing quite what to say.  
  
"Well," said Colossus a bit awkwardly, rising from his seat. "I should go talk to her. Excuse me, my friends."  
  
"I'm thinkin' you got your work cut out for you, Petey," said Logan with a slight smile, moving aside and giving the massive man room to move through the doorway.  
  
"Da," muttered Colossus, wincing at the sudden crashing sound from Kitty's computer room before hurrying out and up the stairs.  
  
"So….," Logan offered, finally stepping into the room and taking a seat near Storm. "I see we're all gettin' along just wonderfully. One big happy family, huh, cajun?"  
  
All eyes turned on Gambit at Logan's words, making the thief squirm uncomfortably in his seat. Seeing that they expected an answer, he fidgeted for a moment before finally sighing and muttering to himself "Gonna be a long night…."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Kitty sighed as she walked through the graveyard, wondering what twisted impulse had guided her here. Things were bad enough without reliving the past again. Still, it seemed whenever she was upset, her inner ghosts guided her here, perhaps to provide perspective. Illyana had been the first to be buried here, a victim of Stryfe's Legacy Virus. Just a child…it hadn't seemed fair for her best friend to die in such a way, life slowly seeping from her as she lay in bed, rather than dying in the battlefield where she had spent so many years of her life. But at least now she had plenty of company.   
  
Forge had been the first to die, set-up by his sometime lover, Mystique. One of the first to be possessed by the Shadow King, he had used her to kill Forge and then destroy his base of operations, taking all of the technology that might have helped the X-Men with it. Forge had been instrumental in their defeat of the Shadow King on Muir Isle, and the monster had seen to it that that would not happen again. The Professor had been next. Stripped of all his mental abilities during the Onslaught battle, he could do nothing against the Shadow King. He had died in the battlefield, killed by several of his own students. Jean had been next. Taking the Professor's place as most powerful telepath, she had tried to confront the Shadow King on the Astral Plane and lost. Her brain dispersed into so many atoms, her body had followed shortly after. The deaths had come quickly after that…the Shadow King had grown much more powerful during his reign on the Astral plane, and became even more so when he chose Magneto as his host, forming his nexus of passage to this world through Magneto's body. Jubilee, completely possessed by the Shadow King, had been slain by her father figure, Wolverine…Angel was slain by his own lover, Psylocke when she gave herself to the Shadow King willingly….Havok, possessed also, had taken out his fair share of mutants all on his own with his deadly plasma blasts: Beast, Maggott, Cannonball, and most of X-Force before Cyclops took him down. He should have killed him after all the deaths he had caused, but he couldn't bring himself to kill his own brother. His mistake. Generation X had been possessed by the Shadow King almost to the man, except for M, who might have defeated him in the end if not for the Psionic wave he had unleashed upon the world. Using his considerable power, the Shadow King had drawn forth all of the energy from Astral Plane and unleashed it upon the world in a concentrated blast, killing every telepath around the world. The blast of Psionic energy was unexpected, they were unprepared, and it blew their brains to atoms. X-Man, Cable, Franklin Richards, anyone with any telepathic ability was destroyed, ensuring the Shadow King's victory. With no one left to stand against him on the Astral Plane and his vessel of Magneto unable to be harmed by the X-Men's combined efforts, the Shadow King stood victorious.    
  
But it hadn't ended there. The Fantastic Four, the Avengers, every superhero group in existence had rallied against the Shadow King and joined the battle. By that time, even more mutants had succumbed to the Shadow Kings influence, and much of the human populace as well. Outnumbered, many of them died as well, either mindwiped by the Shadow King or killed by their former friends. That was their downfall…they had been unable to accept the fact that their friends were completely subverted by the Shadow King and refused to kill them. Their adversaries had shown no such mercy. Joined by Apocalypse and many of the other villains, the Shadow King's armies were almost unstoppable. That was when Cyclops had decided that the time had passed to remain passive…fueled by Jean's death, his bloodthirst had grown, and he had led the team down a path Charles Xavier would never have dared to imagine…  
  
Kitty shivered despite the warm air, remembering it all, eyes reading the name on every grave, though she had memorized them all long ago. Things looked no better for either mutants or humanity now than they had then.  
  
"Katya? I thought I might find you here…" it was Piotr, walking down the hill toward the graves to join her.  
  
She shook her head and blinked back the tears which she could still cry, even after all this time. "I still can't believe it, Piotr. Even after the last two years, everything that's happened, I still can't believe that we've come to this."  
  
He moved up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and leaning her back against him. "This is not about Gambit, is it?," he asked gently, knowing her so well after all this time that there was no need for the question, save giving her the opportunity to talk about her grief.  
  
"It's what he represents," she sighed. "The betrayals over the years have hurt even more than the deaths. Psylocke, Havok, Ni--," she broke off, her voice becoming a faint whisper, "Kurt…"  
  
"I know, Katya," he soothed, taking her into his embrace. "I know."  
  
They stood in silence then, each contemplating the past, wondering if there would ever be hope for the future.  
  



	4. TDOAD Chapter 3: Strange Bedfellows

CHAPTER 3: STRANGE BEDFELLOWS  
  
If I could sweat in this form, I'd be a puddle by now, thought Bobby Drake as he was suddenly encased by a boiling heat wave.  
  
"That new guy sure is cute," said Firestar, grinning as she shot another microwave blast of heat at Iceman.  
  
He parried with an iceblast, meeting her shot halfway, the resulting steam masking his expression as he spoke. "Even cuter than me, Angel?"  
  
"Mmm…maybe," she replied, her grin broadening as she took to the air to avoid his next volley of ice missiles.   
  
He concentrated a freezing blast around her form, cooling the microwave energy which held her form aloft but stopping just short of freezing her in solid ice. His own grin appeared as he moved forward to catch her rapidly falling form in his arms. "Well, Angel, appearances can be deceiving, you know? It's actions that count," he continued as she landed perfectly in his outstretched embrace. Smiling, he leaned his face closer to hers, lips barely an inch from her own.  
  
With a light laugh she leaped from his arms, landing gracefully on her feet. "Come on now, Bobby. You know fire and ice don't mix."  
  
"And you think fire and a snake in the grass do?," he countered, folding his arms over his chest and regarding her seriously.  
  
She brushed a fiery strand of hair from her face, avoiding his gaze as she dodged the question, asking casually, "What exactly did this guy do to make you all hate him so much?"  
  
"Why don't you ask me yourself, chere?," came the smooth reply as the door to the Danger Room slid open to reveal Gambit standing there.  
  
"Remy." Iceman's greeting was completely flat as he nodded once to the cajun.  
  
"Bobby." Gambit's greeting was just as emotionless as he stepped into the room. "So good to see you again. An' keeping such lovely company," he added, leaning down to take Firestar's hand and bring it to his lips gently. "I'm afraid I haven't had de pleasure, chere. Remy LeBeau, pleased to meet you."  
  
Her face almost as red as her hair, she nodded once, stuttering out a reply. "I'm Angelica Jones, also known as Firestar."  
  
"And I'm the flamin' Queen o' England," came the exasperated voice from the control booth of the Danger Room. "Are you all gonna practice today, or stand around flappin' your gums?"  
  
"Sorry, Logan," muttered Firestar, trying to regain her composure. "We've been waiting for Wanda and the others to show up before really starting the program."  
  
"I'm here," the Scarlet Witch called, hurrying into the room. "The others are right behind me, too."  
  
Logan nodded, watching as Shadowcat, Colossus, Dazzler and the former Morlock called Lasher entered the room.  Looking at the motley crew below him, he heaved a sigh. He'd never had much use for Cyclops back in the old days, but sometimes he wished the old boy scout were still around. If anyone had ever known how to forge a team, it had been Scott Summers.  
  
This exercise was for all of them to hone their powers and stay on their toes, but more so, it was for those newer X-Men whose limitations were as yet unknown. Firestar was something of a known quality to them, but Lasher was still learning to control his telekinetic energy tendrils. Even so, it was most important that they learn to function together as a team. Dazzler, Iceman, Shadowcat and Colossus were all veterans, but hindered by the fact that they had never before functioned together as a team. The Scarlet Witch was used to being part of team as well, and even Logan had to admit that he admired her pluck. Still, she had never fought alongside any of these people until the last year or so, and the same held mostly true for Gambit also. Looking at Iceman's expression as Gambit continued to sweet talk Firestar, he could only hope that their exercises in the Danger Room would be enough to bring them all together.  
  
He clicked the intercom again. "Alright, you kids ready, or what?"  
  
"Why don't you come down here and join us old man, and we'll show you how ready we are," came the cajun's cocky voice from below.  
  
With a thin smile, Logan clicked the intercom again, replying, "Don't tempt me, boy."  
  
The door to the control room opened, and Storm stepped inside, moving to take the seat next to Logan. "Are they ready?"  
  
With another glance at the troubled expressions below him, he shook his head and moved his hand to the start button. "They'd better be," he answered gruffly, pushing the button and engaging the sequence.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
In the Reaver's old base in Australia, Rogue watched as the workmen about her moved like busy bees. They had achieved much in these few short weeks, building on to the original base and restoring its original technology. Even now, she sat in the central chamber, flipping through the files in the database. Displayed on the screen before her were the most comprehensive files on the X-Men she had ever seen, including many of which she had never met. The files had been updated recently, by Apocalypse, and she was amazed at the scope of the villain's knowledge. Flipping through the images of her former teammates, she felt a wistful tug upon her heart, remembering the old days, the times they had shared. Storm, Colossus, Gambit…. Quickly, she squashed the feeling, pushing it to the back of her mind. It was too late for regrets now, she thought. She'd already made her choice.  
  
"Learning anything useful, Rogue?," came the cold voice from behind her.  
  
Spinning slowly around in her swivel chair, she turned to face another of her former teammates, this time in the flesh.  
  
"Betsy," she nodded to the woman, rising respectfully to greet her superior.  
  
"At ease, Rogue. This isn't the army." Psylocke moved toward the console with liquid grace, her every move that of a predator. Encased in a completely black bodysuit except for her face, she resembled nothing so much as the shadows she was part of. Tucking a lock of dark purple hair behind one ear, she leaned down to have a look at the current data. "Hmmm….Gambit. I recall you used to have quite the soft spot for him," she added, turning her piercing, purple-black eyes on Rogue.  
  
"That was a long time ago," Rogue answered, her eyes downcast.   
  
"Yes," Psylocke replied, almost hissing the word. "I suppose it was." The suspicion in her eyes did not lessen, despite her words, as she kept her gaze upon the younger woman. "Let me make this plain, Rogue." She stepped away from the console and turned her back to the woman, clasping her hands behind her. "I do not like this convenient change of heart you've experienced. I find it highly unlikely that you would turn against your former teammates to such an extreme."  
  
"Then you obviously don't know what ah did before ah--"  
  
"Oh yes," Psylocke whirled, a cold smile twisting her lovely, dark face. "I know all about that. In fact, it's the only reason you've been admitted here. Our master has decreed you the new leader of the Brotherhood, and so it must be. But rest assured, Rogue, I'll be watching your every move. Would that I could read your mind and we could be done with this little charade, but the alien portion of Carol Danver's psyche that you absorbed prevents my probes. Again…very convenient."  
  
"What about your change of heart?" Rogue asked, bringing her chin up in defiance of the woman's words.  
  
"I've already proven myself, remember? The day I drove my psychic knife through Warren's head and then snapped his neck while he lay helpless." She grinned maliciously as she relived the memory, and Rogue shook her head in wonder. She actually had taken pleasure in it, Rogue realized with something like horror.  
  
"So would y'all have me kill Gambit to prove mah loyalty?" she asked, her voice taking on a hard edge, forcing a bravado that she did not feel.  
  
Psylocke whirled away, laughing. "No, Rogue. Not Gambit, he yet serves a purpose…just the rest of your former teammates. Surely you realize that is part of the Brotherhood's main initiative?"  
  
"Ah know. Ah knew that before ah signed on. Question mah motivation all you like, Psylocke, the results of mah future efforts here should more than satisfy you."  
  
"We shall see about that, Rogue. We shall just see." Psylocke cut her one last, penetrating look before melting into the shadows.  
  
Rogue slumped back in her seat, eyes closing in a mixture of relief and defeat. Great, just great, she thought. Not more than a month into my new position, and already I got the master's right hand breathing down my neck. Had she really thought she'd found a new home? A place where she could be safe and happy again? She gave a wry chuckle and willed back the tears behind her eyes. No, she could never go home again.  
  
And from the shadows nearby, came a wicked grin.  
  



	5. TDOAD Chapter 4: Melancholy Memories

CHAPTER 4: MELANCHOLY MEMORIES  
  
Logan found Storm out by the pool, relaxing in the afternoon sunshine. He stopped, smiling as he took a moment to admire her, reflecting with some amazement how things had grown between them over the last two years. They had always been the closest of friends, but it had taken the extraordinary events of the Psi-War to bring them together. After Jean had died, he had wondered if he would ever love again. She had been the last, the only woman left alive that he felt true love for, despite her marriage to Cyclops, he had always loved her in his heart. When she died, it was like something in his soul had been ripped out of him. There was still a place within him that would always be hollow from the loss of Jean, yet with Ororo, he found that part of him was fulfilled as well, a feeling of being made whole. Storm shifted her position on the lawn chair then, distracting him from his reverie, and he walked out to meet her.  
  
"How goes the battle, darlin'?," he asked.  
  
"It goes fairly well," she replied, smiling as she moved slightly to the side, giving him room to sit. "With all the training in the last few months, the team seems to be working well together, overall, and most of them have accepted Gambit as a part of them now."  
  
"Hmph," he snorted. "I can guess which one of 'em still ain't too thrilled."  
  
"Yes," she said, sitting up to retrieve her sunglasses. "Robert has yet to make peace with our newest teammate of old."  
  
"Can't say I blame the boy. It ain't never easy to watch the girl you love fall for someone else," he said, feeling just a passing twinge of pain with the comment.  
  
She nodded, regarding him thoughtfully. "As it was not easy for you to watch Jean and Scott. I wonder sometimes, Logan, how different things would be now if Jean had survived."  
  
"'Tween me an' you?" he seemed mildly surprised. "Darlin', what I felt for Jean…that was something special, something you find maybe once in a lifetime…but only 'cause we could never be together. What I felt for her, what I imagined, that was dream, and dreams can't touch reality. What you and I have is reality…and it's more special than any unrequited love ever could be," he said, smiling as he leaned down to kiss her.  
  
She stopped him just before his lips reached her, laying a finger upon them. "But Jean did love you, Logan."  
  
"I know, darlin'" he said quietly, eyes searching hers. "But it was nothing compared to what she felt for Scott. Those two were meant for each other."  
  
She nodded again, sighing as her gaze fell upon the sky above them. "I can still hardly believe they are gone…"  
  
"They still live on, darlin'. Inside o' us," he said reverently, then was suddenly distracted. "Speak o' the devil…we got company 'ro."  
  
"Hey guys," Firestar called, waving and smiling as she made her way to another lawn chair nearby.  
  
"This a private party, or can anybody join?," asked Bobby with a grin, emerging from the mansion a moment later with Dazzler and Lasher right behind him.  
  
"You're more than welcome, kid. Just don't go freezing the pool again this time or I'll make icecubes outta you," Logan shot back.  
  
"Tough talk, old man," laughed Bobby. "Good thing I'm more interested in having some fun today." With a mischievous wink he ran forward, grabbing Firestar around the waist and jumping into the pool with her.  
  
Logan watched them frolicking in the pool for a moment more, then turned to Ororo, whispering, "Where is the cajun today, anyway?"  
  
"Out running reconnaissance," she replied, turning to look at him. "He'll be gone for most of the day."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue snarled viciously as she hurled her unconscious opponent to the ground with a resounding thud.   
  
"Such a waste, Creed," she hissed, her features contorted with the animalistic rage she had absorbed from him. ""Always usin'  brawn instead of brains. It's a wonder you've survived this long." Dusting off her hands as if she had touched something distasteful, she suddenly  paused, her heightened senses picking up the scent of a familiar presence.  
  
"If you are done beating up on the old man, dear sister, there is someone here to see you whom I think you will find most interesting," came a voice from the shadows of the ceiling.  
  
"Who?," she asked curtly, not even bothering to look up. If his scent hadn't already given him away, his accent surely would have, she thought.  
  
"I think you should see for yourself," came the teasing voice.  "He's out in the hall."  
  
She nodded, already moving in that direction as she replied, "See if Creed needs any help, he should be waking up soon." Already she could feel Sabretooth's siphoned powers fading. It was just a good thing she hadn't hurt him too badly while she still possessed his healing factor, she thought. The Brotherhood would need someone with his ferocity.  
  
She stepped out of the practice room and into the main hallway, idly musing about who her mysterious visitor might be even as she appraised the technology of the new base. Combining the genius of several super-villains, her superiors had seen this former Reaver's base transformed into a technological wonder that rivaled even the X-Mansion in its glory days. Several factions of the Brotherhood had already taken up residence in the massive complex, all under her command. If only Mystique could see me now, she thought, the memory of her foster mother sending a sharp pain through her heart. She shook her head, marveling at the wonder of it all. If not for Mystique's death, she wouldn't be where she was right now. The hallway began to fade out of view as the memory of that fateful battle replayed itself.   
  
It had been several months after the devastating battle with the Shadow King where so many died. The defense systems in the mansion had detected an intruder, but no one could seem to locate the threat despite scouring the mansion. It hadn't been until Rogue checked out the War Room that she realized the nature of their intruder….  
  
"Mystique, no!," she had shouted, recognizing her shapeshifting foster mother even in the assumed form of Storm. She had been in the process of activating a bomb planted in the machinery of the war room. She knew Mystique had been subverted by the Shadow King, but this? To kill all of the X-Men? To kill her own daughter?  
  
"Stay out of this, Rogue," her mother had shouted, turning one of her laser guns threateningly on her foster daughter. "If you had any sense, you'd leave here with me and come home where you belong." Her fingers had moved faster over the keypad, entering the code that would bring about the destruction of the remaining X-Men.  
  
"Ah can't let you do this, momma," Rogue had declared, flying in on a dead run at Mystique.  
  
Mystique had gotten off one shot at Rogue before the girl touched her and drained her power. Even as she had collapsed to the floor, falling unconscious, Cyclops had burst into the room. He had changed so much, Rogue remembered, become as bloodthirsty as his enemies. He didn't even think as he unleashed his optic blasts on the helpless Mystique, pulverizing her body before she even hit the floor. Rogue had been so completely shocked by his actions, the speed at which it had all occurred. She had acted on pure instinct as she turned toward Cyclops and—  
  
"Rogue?" came a voice from just ahead of her, startling her from her thoughts.  
  
Startled from her memories, the world suddenly came into sharp focus as she recognized her visitor. She blinked once, twice, then found her voice. "Is it done?," she asked, her voice shaking just a bit.  
  
"It's done, chere. They've accepted me as part of de team." Remy LeBeau smiled, and in the semi-darkness of the hallway, his eyes began to glow a deep, crimson red.  
  



	6. TDOAD Chapter 5: Of Love and Betrayal

CHAPTER 5: OF LOVE & BETRAYAL  
  
Rogue's hand shook as she poured them a drink, her voice only slightly more stable as she effected an air of casualness.  "When Psylocke told me about this plan, ah wasn't sure you'd go for it. Ah, mean, you did make contact with them first."  
  
Gambit smiled slightly and leaned back in his chair, regarding her with that same playful look she remembered so well. "I thought you'd be with dem petite. It took me almost two whole years to work my way back from Antarctica, you know, what with all de warfare across de continent. When Psylocke contacted me a few weeks after joining dem, and told me where you were…well, I knew I had to see you again." He gave an appraising glance about her chambers, then looked back to her. "And look at you, chere.  Livin' the good life it seems."  
  
"Yeah, only the best for the master's highest ranking," she replied, barely managing to keep the sarcasm from her voice.  She walked toward him slowly, thoughtfully, nodding as she handed him his drink. "So why'd you come back, Remy? You coulda just kept on goin', forgotten about all of us, carved your own niche out in this new world."  
  
"I probably could've chere…might even have me my own faction of de Brotherhood by now if I hadn't stopped in to check on de team. But it all worked out, no? I'm much more useful to you as part of de X-Men. Besides," he continued, his voice lowering just a bit, "dis way, I get to see you more often den I would out in the field."  
  
 "So you came back for me? Even after what ah did to you?" She could not keep her voice from shaking this time.  
  
He took the drink and set it aside, laying a hand upon her arm and meeting her eyes intently with his own. "Yes, chere. I came back for you. I couldn't blame you for leavin' me like dat…I deserved it, I knew I did. But now dat you an outcast from the group too…well, we birds of a feather, no? Difference is, I got an in dat you don't."  
  
"Ah wonder if they'd take me back in now, too…after what ah did…" she said, her voice distant.  
  
"I'm only dere cause dey need more bodies, chere, not cause dey want me dere. You an' me, we got no home anymore." He pulled her closer to him, drawing her up against him. "But we still got each other, chere…if you want it dat way," he added, his voice growing low and husky.  
  
"Remy…," she whispered, struggling to regain her composure, "Ah'm here cause ah got nowhere else to go. You…you got a second chance."   
  
"Ain't no place in dis world for me without you by my side, petite," he whispered back, his lips barely an inch from her own.  
  
She gazed deep into his eyes for a long moment, thoughts reeling. She had forgotten the effect he had on her…after two long years, could there be anything left between them? Despite the logic that insisted against it, she knew in her heart that she still loved him. More than that…she was so alone now…she needed him, needed someone to care, someone to hold onto. And if he still loved her, as he claimed to, did it really matter that he would be betraying her former friends, her now sworn enemies? Her own betrayal was already complete, despite the fact that she hadn't desired it. Could she judge anyone else for theirs?  
  
"Chere?," he asked, his voice almost seeming to plead.  
  
There was never any decision to be made, she thought, as she lifted her lips to his, eyes closing as she gave herself over to the passion in her heart.  
  
He stiffened suddenly, surprised, and she drew back, recognizing the source of his fear. "It's alright, sugah," she whispered, pulling off her gloves and tracing the outline of his lips with one finger. "I can control it, now."  
  
It was all he needed to hear. He grabbed her in a tight embrace, pulling her almost roughly against him and returning her kiss with a passion of his own, passion too long denied.  
  
The world around them seemed to ignite and catch fire, and they gave themselves over willingly to the flames.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
"Shouldn't Gambit be back by now?," asked Kitty, yawning as she stretched out on the sofa.  
  
Firestar shot her a quick look, then looked away just as quickly, glancing up to see if Bobby had caught it. He had.  
  
"Yeah, he should," Bobby answered casually. "Where the heck was he running reconnaissance to anyway? Back to Antarctica?"  
  
"That's not funny, Bobby," Firestar said, rising from her seat.   
  
"What, Angel?," he asked, half-rising from his own seat.  
  
She spun on him, her anger suddenly coming to the fore. "Just because you're jealous of him is no reason to--"  
  
"Whoa, look at the time," Kitty suddenly interjected. "I need to get to bed. G'night, guys." She was out the door before either Iceman or Firestar could move. They hardly even noticed.  
  
"Jealous?," Bobby asked, incredulous. "Of that…," he trailed off, sputtering for words.  
  
"Then what is it that you hate about him so much? You have yet to say one nice word to him or about him. And don't give me that crap again about the Morlock tunnels! If Kitty can get past it, so can you."  
  
"Look, Angel," he said, his voice softening. "You know how I feel about you. But besides that, I don't want to see you get hurt. He's bad news. He broke Rogue's heart and now--"  
  
"And Rogue betrayed you all, too didn't she? Why don't you rant about her? Get over it, Bobby,"  she spun on her heel, turning away from him and walking toward the stairs.  
  
"He's up to no good, Angel," Bobby said quietly. "I know I can't convince you of it, but I feel it in my bones."  
  
"Goodnight, Bobby," she said with a note of finality, stalking up the stairs to her room.  
  
Bobby fell back onto the couch with a heavy sigh and settled in for a long night with the VCR.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Gambit stretched and rolled over in the bed, a smile still lingering on his face. "I got to say, chere, dis control over your powers has turned out to be a wonderful thing." He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips, eyes glimmering a soft red, like dying embers.  
  
"Mmmm…ah'm just glad to have you here," she murmured, pulling him close against her, eyes half-closed as sleep tried to claim her.  
  
He smiled once more and kissed her on the nose, reluctantly withdrawing from her embrace. "I got to go, chere, they'll be wonderin' where I'm at back at de mansion. And I got to hit de shower first, clothes and all, or else Logan'll smell you on me."  
  
"Not yet," she pleaded, trying to draw him back to her. "We've seen so little of each other.…ah miss you…."  
  
"I miss you too, petite. But if dey notice me missing too long, my cover might be blown. I can't exactly give you de information you need if I'm dead, now can I?"  
  
"I suppose not," she murmured, finally releasing him, watching him go with half-lidded eyes. "Be careful, Remy."  
  
"I will, chere." He flashed her a devil-may-care grin, blew her a kiss, and was gone.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
In the inner sanctum of the Brotherhood's new base, Psylocke sat smiling, psionic amplifier increasing the power of her thought as she reported in.  
  
"It is going well, master. It seems Gambit's love for Rogue shall be the X-Men's undoing."  
  
She felt his approval briefly through their psionic link just before the connection was cut short. Removing the psionic amplifier from her head, her smile twisted and grew as she continued. "And if it does not, it will at least bring about Rogue's undoing. Either way, I win."  
  
Several guards outside the door of the inner sanctum suddenly shivered as the sound of wicked laughter echoed eerily from within.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
And outside the Australian complex, as he waited for Gateway to open the portal that would send him on the short trip back to Salem Center New York, Remy LeBeau dragged heavily on a cigarette and wondered just what in the hell he had gotten himself into.  
  



	7. TDOAD Chapter 6: Innocence Lost

CHAPTER 6: INNOCENCE LOST  
  
"Sister, oh dear sister. Wake uuuuupppp…" the sing-song voice intruded against her dreams.  
  
Rogue blinked against the harsh light of the room as she opened her eyes, pulling herself reluctantly from the deep sleep she'd been enjoying. "What?," she asked, annoyed as she shielded her eyes from the florescent lights her visitor had apparently turned on.  
  
"Now, is that any way to greet your favorite brother?," came the voice from the shadows again.  
  
She sighed, heaving herself up into a sitting position. "You're mah only brother, sugah." Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the clock and resisted the urge to fall back onto the bed. "You gonna hide in the shadows all day, or come out here and tell me why you woke me up at the ungodly hour of 6am?"  
  
Yellow eyes appeared in the darkness, blinking once as they adjusted to the light. "Rough night, Rogue?," he chuckled as he moved forward into her line of vision, revealing his blue furred features, still pooled in shadow somehow, though they were fully exposed to the light. He had grown even darker since coming into the Shadow King's control, she thought.  
  
"I heard Gambit was here quite late," he went on, his voice coy as he cut her a playful, sidelong look.  
  
"An' so what if he was?," she countered, still grumpy at being awakened so early.  
  
He shrugged thinly. "All the better for us, I say. What's good for you, is good for the Brotherhood."  
  
Stretching, she yawned and rose from the bed, bending to pick up the uniform she had so hastily discarded the night before. A faint smile touched her lips as she remembered, but she forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand, pausing before picking it up. "Should ah put on mah uniform, or did you just come here to discuss mah love life?," she asked with a small grin.  
  
"Well, that was part of it, of course," he said, chuckling again. "But ja, you'll need your uniform."  
  
She nodded and began to slip into it, struggling with the spandex material for a few moments before seeming satisfied. Smoothing out the few remaining wrinkles, she stopped to regard her reflection in the mirror. It had been years since she'd worn this outfit, it dated back to her original days with the Brotherhood. Never thought ah'd see the day ah'd don this old green and white hooded thing again, she thought, giving herself a final once over before turning back toward her brother.  
  
"So what's come up? We under attack, or what?"  
  
"Nothing so sinister, sister," he grinned, leaping up onto her bed and crouching there. "In fact, it's a rare bonus. We've captured another refugee. One whose power would be very useful to you….," he trailed off suggestively.  
  
She stood in silence for a long moment before replying, "Ah see."  
  
"He awaits your presence even now," he continued, his grin broadening to reveal his frighteningly sharp teeth.  
  
"Well…let's get this over with, then, shall we?," she asked, forcing her tone to be casual as she moved toward the door.  
  
"Ja, let's. I can hardly wait to hear him scream," he replied, hurrying out the door behind her.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
"His name is 'Wildchild'," the Black Beast explained in a conversational tone. "A mutant possessing some of the same powers as Sabretooth and Wolverine. Sort of a watered down version, though." He set his chart aside and moved toward the shivering subject, stroking his chin and regarding the mutant much as one would a bug under glass. "It's the healing factor we find most intriguing. Weaker than Creed's or Logan's on a cellular level, but still just as effective in the long run." He turned and looked at Rogue intently. "It could be very useful to you in the coming battles. We thought you might want to add it to your…collection…before adding him to Sinister's gene pool."  
  
She swallowed hard and looked at the young boy bound in iron manacles before her. She knew him, sort of. He'd been part of X-Factor, once, before the Psi-War, a mutant who had fought for the same beliefs she'd once followed. "He's to go into the gene pool? The master doesn't want to subvert him?," she asked, fighting against the conflicting emotions in her heart.   
  
"His mind is considered too savage by the master to serve any kind of purpose. It would take more effort to bring him under control than he would be worth to us," the Beast replied, shrugging.  
  
She nodded, forcing herself to take a step closer to the subject. There was no hope for him, she knew, not now that he'd been captured. The gene pool meant the same as death. They were simply salvaging out the parts of him they could before turning him into scrap material, much like an old machine that had outlived its purpose. The lack of humanity made her cringe to her soul….and yet, what choice did she have? If Kyle, Wildchild, was scheduled to be terminated, then there was nothing she could do to save him…and his healing factor would help her a great deal. And if she refused, suspicion would turn upon her. Pushing her doubts to the back of her mind, she rationalized it as her only choice.  
  
Steeling herself, she moved directly in front of the subject, trying desperately not to see him as she pulled the gloves from her hands. Closing her eyes so that she would not have to see his expression, she touched her hands to his face, and felt the trembling of his body. Forcing the sensation from her mind, she reached out with her power as the master had taught her, searching through the memories and synaptic patterns for the one power she sought.   
  
But she had not counted on the number of images and memories that assailed her. His fear was a living thing within him, he knew his fate, and yet he struggled, fighting against her with everything he had. She was too untrained for this she thought, sweat breaking out on her forehead as she struggled to screen out the essence of this boy. Ah can't, she thought, ah can't see him as human. Ah can't see him as anything but a tool to be used, or ah'm lost.  
  
With a terrible scream of anguish, his body sagged within its bonds as she wrenched free the one piece of him that she needed, holding him fast as she prolonged the contact, making the transfer permanent. She felt something within her body start to grow and change, even as her heart broke and some small spark within it died out forever. And then, she was lost in darkness.  
  
"Well," the Black Beast said with an eerie smile. "It seems our experiment was a success."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
She awoke moments later, on the cold floor of the laboratory. Eyes fluttering open, she wiped at the wetness on her face. Expecting to find blood, she was only dimly surprised to discover the salt of her own tears. Forcing herself to sit up, she ran the sleeve of her uniform across her face and groggily looked about the room.  
  
"Wunderbar, Rogue," her brother laughed, applauding her efforts.  
  
Dragging herself weakly up from the floor, she nodded, eyes moving to follow the Black Beast's movements as he flipped switches like a madman, entering data into the computer with a feverish speed. He paused for only a moment, turning to give her a broad, fanged, smile. "Very good, Rogue. All tests verify that his healing factor has been removed."  
  
She nodded again, her mind too numb to focus on anything except escape. "Ah'll be going then…ah'm….ah'm not feeling so well."  
  
The Beast nodded his approval before turning back to his experiment. "Go on, then. I imagine the stress was tremendous for you. I'm about to initiate the meltdown sequence now, anyway. No need for you to see that…unless of course, you want to?," he asked with a dark chuckle.  
  
She shook her head and struggled her way to the door, leaning against it for a moment to gather her strength. She gave them one last nod in goodbye, trying to ignore the gleeful smile on her brother's face.  
  
Kyle's screams followed her all the way back to her room, echoing in her head long after the door slid shut behind her.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Gambit gave a sigh of satisfaction as he sank down into the hot tub, feeling his muscles begin to unwind with the extreme heat. He leaned his head back against the edge, and let his thoughts drift back to last night. Despite the situation, he could not help but smile as he remembered her. It had been far too long, he thought. She had fairly intoxicated him with her mere presence.  
  
"Ah, Rogue…what is about you, petite?," he wondered aloud, sliding deeper into the tub.  
  
He was playing it too close this time, he knew, walking a dangerous line. He wondered why that should bother him now. After all, he had spent most of his life on a tightrope, hadn't he? And in the case of Rogue, rational thought had rarely, if ever, had any bearing. The question was, what was he going to—  
  
"Gambit?"  
  
The voice startled him from his thoughts, and he sat suddenly upright in the tub. He relaxed a moment later, recognizing the owner of the voice.  
  
"Stormy, you scared de hell out of me," he laughed, sinking back down into the tub.  
  
With cat-like grace, she moved to the edge of the ceramic tile, sitting down and dipping her feet in the steaming water. Smiling slightly, she looked at him, eyes seeming to form a question.  
  
 "So, tell me, Remy….how goes our plans with the Brotherhood?"  
  



	8. TDOAD Chapter 7: Of Friendship and Betra...

CHAPTER 7: OF FRIENDSHIP & DISCOVERY  
  
Alison Blaire lit another cigarette and watched as Bobby paced restlessly along the perimeter wall. She'd gotten to know him pretty well in the last two years or so, well enough to know that when  he was in a mood like this, there was rarely any reasoning with him. She exhaled a cloud of smoke with an exaggerated sigh, and rolled her eyes in his direction. "So tell me again what it is we're waiting for here, Bobby?"  
  
He stopped pacing for a moment, long enough to make a hush motion with his hand and stand, listening intently for any sound he might have missed while she was speaking. She shook her head and sighed again, leaning back against the cold, damp wall in resignation. "Earth to Bobby," she said, in a loud whisper. "Come in, Bobby."  
  
Finally he walked over to join her, pacing in smaller circles in front of her as he chewed thoughtfully on his thumb. "I don't know what we're looking for yet," he whispered back. "But I'll know when we see it."  
  
"This is about Gambit, right?," she asked, taking another drag from her cigarette and looking up at him.  
  
He stopped in mid-pace cut her a sharp look before returning to the repetitive motion. "Yes."  
  
"And what conspiracy theory have we concocted this time, Dr. Drake?," she asked with a flippant grin.  
  
"You know, you didn't have to join me," he replied in a heated whisper.  
  
"Hey," she spread her hands in a gesture of peace. "Just trying to lighten the mood a little."  
  
"I know," he sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. Normally, it would be him trying to lighten the mood, cast a little humor on an otherwise bleak situation. What was he doing here?   
  
"Penny for your thoughts."  
  
"I don't think they're worth that much, Dazz," he said, sinking down the wall to sit beside her. "This whole thing with Angelica and Gambit has me so screwed up I can hardly think straight."  
  
"They have a thing now?," she asked, feigning surprise with just a touch of cynicism.  
  
He cut her "that look" again, the one that said she was treading on his last nerve, "No, they don't have a 'thing'…yet. But Angel's got her sights set on him, that's for sure."  
  
"And it's making you crazy, isn't it?"  
  
He nodded, almost ashamed at his inability to deal with his own feelings. "The question is, why? I mean, it's not like Angel and I have ever had anything, right? I've been in love with her for a long time now, sure, but she never gave me reason to think that feeling might be returned. Why is it so hard to watch her go?"  
  
"She's not going anywhere, Drake," Alison said, bluntly. "It's obvious that Gambit doesn't have any interest in her, despite the way he flirts. He flirts with all of us that way."  
  
"I know." He ran a hand through his hair, gripping it by the roots and resting his face against his upraised knees. "She just refuses to see that. And it's going to get her hurt."  
  
Alison shrugged. "So let her hurt, Bobby. Live and learn. You can't protect her from this life any more than Charles Xavier could have protected us. He wanted to, with all his heart, to be sure, but the thing is, every child has to grow up sometime, throw away the night light and learn to walk on their own. We can't truly live, or grow, unless we're free to make our own choices."  
  
He stifled a bitter chuckle, cutting her a sidelong look. "You learn all that in Mojoworld, Dazz?"  
  
"Part of it," she agreed. "Longshot's battle for his people's freedom taught me a lot about the things that are really important in life. But most of it, I learned right here, on this world, as an X-Man. Now, and then."  
  
His expression softened as she mentioned Longshot. He knew how hard it was for her to talk about it, even after all this time. When the X-Men had sent out a rallying call to all of their allies, Dazzler and Longshot had been among the first to offer their help against the Shadow King. He wondered sometimes, that if they had known then what would happen, if they would have agreed so readily. Longshot's soul, so pure and innocent, had been a true feast for the Shadow King. He had taken great pleasure in twisting Longshot's motivations and turning him into an evil parody of his former self. At first, Alison had been unable to accept the change as irrevocable. She held hope for so long…longer than anyone would have thought possible. But in the end, she'd been forced to kill him herself, knowing that Longshot would have wanted it that way, if he had had any free will left. And he would have wanted her, only her, to do it. So she had performed what she rationalized as a mercy killing…but it had changed her forever. The carefree Dazzler of old, the songbird whose voice always carried hope and beauty, was gone forever, leaving behind an embittered shell. She had become a master at hiding her feelings, he thought. Maybe she didn't even have them anymore. Or maybe she just didn't realize that she did. Whatever the case, she was a stronger woman now than she had ever been….but the cost was so very high.  
  
"Hmph," he mumbled, unable to think of anything to say.  
  
"Cat got your tongue, Drake?" She grinned and ruffled his hair.  
  
"How do you do it, Dazz?," he wondered aloud. "How can you laugh in the face of so much pain?"  
  
She looked down at the ground for a long moment, then shrugged just slightly. "Because I have to, Bobby. I have to laugh, have to keep it at a distance, or else I'd start screaming and never stop." She flashed him a smile then, her expression changing like quicksilver in the moonlight. "Same could be asked of you, my oh-so witty pal."  
  
"Hmph," he grunted again, keeping up the grumpy façade for an instant longer before giving in to her infectious grin. "Yeah…I suppose." He chuckled and stood, turning to offer her his hand. "What do you say we head back to the mansion for a gallon of cherry vanilla ice-cream?"  
  
"Yuck!" she made a face, taking his hand and rising. "Besides, I thought ice cream went the way of the dinosaur….you know, along with grocery stores?"  
  
He grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Never doubt the magic of these hands, babe."  
  
"Hey!," she shouted, wiggling out of his embrace. "That's cold!"  
  
"You ain't felt nothin' yet, lightengale," he said, grinning as his form began to ice up.  
  
"Don't make me fill you full of pinholes, Drake," she shot back, already aiming one of her light blasts at him.  
  
A brilliant flare against the night sky from the west, stopped them dead in their tracks.  
  
"What do you suppose…?," Dazzler began to ask, but Bobby was already gone, ice sled carrying him hurriedly in that direction.  
  
Using her light powers to form a blast and send her shooting toward the flare, she arrived just after he did. "Bobby, what…," she trailed off, eyes following in the direction of his rapt stare.  
  
The two stood wordless as they watched the gateway close around a trench-coated form, vanishing in an instant as if it had never been.  
  
"What do you make of that?," asked Bobby, his voice tight with suspicion.  
  
Dazzler shook her head, not quite believing what she had just seen. Bobby wouldn't know about that, she thought, he hadn't been with the X-Men then. But she remembered that power signature plain as day. How many times had Gateway transported she and the rest of the X-Men across the world in moments?  
  
"I'd say Gambit, or his evil twin, is taking a trip down under," she replied dryly.  
  
"To Australia? But isn't that…?"  
  
She simply nodded, the ramifications not lost on her either.  
  
They stood still as ghosts in the moonlight, staring at each other in silence.  
  



	9. TDOAD Chapter 8: First Blood

CHAPTER 8: FIRST BLOOD  
  
"Okay y'all, on your feet, let's move it out!" Rogue shouted above the claxon alarm. "Creed, Summers, gather the rest of the group and meet me down there!"  
  
"What is it, sister?," asked her brother as he eagerly scurried into the room.  
  
"We got a break out in Cell Block-D," she replied, never slowing her pace. "One of the transfers."  
  
"Aha," he exclaimed, looking delighted as he rubbed his long, spindly fingers together. "Then let the games begin."  
  
She lost sight of him as he hurried ahead of her, his form blending into the shadows as if he were one of them. She thought about taking to the air, figuring she could beat him there if she flew, then remembered the tight, twisting confines of the hallways beneath the main complex. She'd be more likely to knock herself silly than make any good time, she thought. Besides, it was a maze down there. If she didn't pay attention to where she was going she could easily get lost for quite a while. Gritting her teeth, she pushed her fast pace into an all-out run, hoping she could get there before her brother could find the prisoner. Remembering his glee over Wildchild, she shuddered to think what might happen if he got there first.  
  
-sqawk- "Rogue?" The voice was coming from her wrist. "Rogue, do you copy? This is Summers. Me and the crew are on our way." –sqawk-  
  
Never slowing, she lifted the band to her mouth, pressing the tiny 'talk' button with her free hand. "Copy that, Summers. Get down here post-haste. Out."  
  
God but it was nasty down here, she thought, unable to ignore the mildewed stench that assailed her nostrils. A network of pipes lined the low, darkened ceiling, fetid water steadily dripping from them as she passed. But even the water couldn't dull the scorching heat trapped beneath the complex. It must be 100 degrees down here, she thought, wiping sweat from her brow. It was like being trapped in a greenhouse…a neglected, rotting, greenhouse. She didn't want to imagine the source of the organic stench which reached her now, as she progressed even lower into the detention area, ignoring the faint moans of prisoners rising eerily through the still air. She paused at the bottom of a narrow, metal stairwell to get her bearings, wiping almost angrily at the sweat that was dripping into her eyes at a steady pace. Where was he? she wondered. She should be almost right on top of him by now…the escapee couldn't have made it much further than E Block before he had gotten there, at the rate they were moving. She stood still as a statue in the hall, ears straining for any sound through the darkness. She concentrated beyond the constant sound of dripping water, the wailing moans that surrounded her, searching for the faintest sound that might lead her to him. But she knew, that if she heard him, it would already be far too late.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
She was running as fast as her legs could carry her through the darkness. She knew she had no hope of getting out, not in this maze, but she refused to die passively in her cell like some kind of rabid animal. She went on, ignoring the sharp pain in her side, the burning in her lungs, the fatigued muscles in her legs, drawing strength from the string of curses she whispered against her captors, damning their souls for the magic dampening aura that kept freedom beyond her reach. If I had enough for just one spell, she thought, the words repeating themselves uselessly, over and over again in her mind. Just one spell and I could be free. Instead, she would die here on the filthy metal catwalks, thousands of miles from the open lands of her home. Still, she thought, it was a better to die fighting than waste away, forgotten, in the bowels of this dingy base.   
  
Was that light just ahead? she had time to wonder, just before she slipped on a slick portion of the catwalk and fell roughly to the floor. "Damn," she whispered, the sound of her voice echoing mockingly through the pipes above her. Hissing in pain, she reached down to gingerly touch her ankle, drawing back as she felt the tender flesh already swelling. That's it, then, I'm done, she thought. If the situation hadn't been so desperate, she might even have laughed. Done in by the infamous twisted ankle that had been the death of so many heroines in books and movies throughout the ages. The irony left a bitter taste in her mouth. Well, be damned if I'm giving up now, she thought, determined to crawl out of here if she had to.  
  
She had barely risen to her feet when she heard a noise from the darkness just ahead of her. Squinting her useless, human eyes in the blackness, she held her breath, waiting for her adversary to reveal themselves. Sweat trickled slowly down her back, the seconds crawling by with agonizing slowness as she imagined the nature of her enemy, the thrill he must be getting from playing with her like this. Seconds slipped into minutes, and still, the only sound she heard was the pounding of her own heart in her ears. Had she imagined it? she wondered, beginning to doubt her own senses at this point.  
  
She didn't have to ponder long, when suddenly, a bright light flared within the darkness. "Take a wrong turn, liebling?," came a teasing voice from beyond the glare of the flashlight. She couldn't see his face, but she didn't need to, she knew that voice as well as she knew her own name.  
  
Her heart seemed to swell within her chest, feeling hope for the first time, even as disbelief filled her mind, wondering how this could be. It didn't matter, she didn't even take time to think about it as she pushed away from the railing, throwing herself into his arms.  
  
"Kurt. Oh God….Kurt," she hugged him tight, tears of joy and relief streaming down her face.  
  
"Shhh…take it easy, now, Amanda. I'm here…everything's going to be alright," he soothed, running a hand as best he could through her dirty, matted hair.  
  
"Thank God," she said again, clutching him tight and leaning up to kiss him soundly. She couldn't get enough of him, the feel of him against her, the sense of peace and safety that he gave her. "I've missed you so much, Kurt."  
  
"And I've missed you, Amanda," he said softly, nuzzling against her.  
  
They stood, holding each other in silence for a long moment, no words necessary after all the years they had known each other. Amanda felt she knew his every thought, after all this time, despite the last year and a half they had spent apart. After all, what was a year and a half after a lifetime of love between them?  
  
"But…but how did you know?," she asked, pulling back to look at him, still hardly daring to believe he was real. "How did you know to find me here?"  
  
His lips drew back into a broad smile, one not altogether pleasant or comforting. For a moment, she doubted, hope dying almost unborn within her chest. But this was Kurt, every sense screamed that it was true, that he was really here. They had grown up together for Gods sake, she reminded herself. She trusted him with her very life.  
  
"Lucky guess, liebling?," he chuckled. "Looks like I showed up just in time, too."  
  
"But…but how did you get in here? Didn't the guards…?" Confused, she let her question trail off. It didn't matter anyway, she decided. All that mattered was that they were together again, and that he would help her get free of this godforsaken place.  
  
"My," he remarked, still smiling as he drew her chin up to make her look at him. "You have been a prisoner for some time, haven't you?"  
  
Again, the confusion. "In Europe, for a year at least, before they transferred me here." She shook her head, trying to drive the conflicting thoughts from it. Why weren't they leaving yet? Surely the guards, at least, would be after her. But then, Kurt had come to rescue her, and he wouldn't have done so without a plan. Besides, he could teleport them out of here any time. Maybe all that time in a cell did more damage than I believed, she thought. Imagine, mistrusting Kurt! Even for a moment. It was unthinkable, she chided herself. He was the most noble and honorable man she had ever known.  
  
"Ah, my poor, Amanda…," he sighed, as if her admission burdened him greatly, his voice growing deeper and somehow more dramatic. "The thought of you dying alone in some dank cell, without even a fighting chance….it breaks my heart."  
  
If she hadn't been so delighted to see him, so swept away with the thought of freedom finally within her grasp, she might have noted the trace of sarcasm that laced his words. "Best not to dwell on those thoughts, my dearest. What does that matter, anyway, now that we're together again?," she asked, her smile returning as she gazed up into his eyes. "What do you say we get the hell out of here while the getting is good?"  
  
"Ah, liebling," he soothed, drawing her close again. "Nein. I'm afraid there will be no escaping today. My sister wouldn't like it."  
  
She frowned, thinking she must have misunderstood him somehow. Opening her mouth to ask him what he meant, she didn't even have time to draw breath before the sword slipped between her ribs and plunged deep into her heart. Even as she died, wide-eyed and gasping for breath, she still couldn't believe it. With her last fading thought, her mind struggled against it, denying the truth before her eyes. They had to have tricked her somehow, she thought frantically, as her vision began to dim, clinging to that thought as though it were her lifeline.  
  
"Aufweidershen, Jermaine," he said reverently, twisting the sword in her chest. It was the last thing she heard before the light in her eyes went out forever. And it left no doubt in her mind that it was indeed, Kurt who had killed her, for only he knew her by that name. Then she shuddered and went still against him, blood draining from her body in a slowly cooling pool. He held her that way for a moment, like two lovers locked in an intimate embrace, bending to kiss her still lips once, before throwing her body from the railing. He stood, watching her fall, then smiled with satisfaction as he heard the crunching halt of her body against the floor below. Dusting off his hands, he turned and made his way back down the catwalk, the sword held in his tail swinging back and forth merrily with the jaunt in his step and in time with the pleasant tune he began to whistle.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue arrived just in time to see Amanda thrown from the railing. Her stomach clenched, and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to maintain a calm she didn't feel. She almost wished Sabretooth and the others hadn't caught up to her and led her here, following Nightcrawler's scent. She hadn't wanted to see this, to be forced to realize how twisted her foster brother had become under the influence of the Shadow King. The Nightcrawler she remembered had abhorred the thought of taking human life, any life for that matter…and yet, here he was, not only taking human life, but relishing every moment of it.   
  
Oh, Kurt, she thought, if there were anything left inside of the man you once were, you would have killed yourself long ago.   
  
"Ah, there you all are!" Nightcrawler smiled as he sighted them. "The escapee has been attended to, dear sister," he proclaimed with a sweeping bow.  
  
"Ah see that," she replied, forcing herself to speak the next words, as she knew it was expected of her. "Good work, Kurt."  
  
"Yeah, way to go, 'crawler," Sabretooth growled approvingly from her side, an evil smile twisting his face. "I could smell that frail from here. She never even saw it coming, no trace of fear on her at all, 'til the very last."  
  
"Well, as someone I once knew used to say, 'I'm the best there is at what I do'." He grinned and bowed again, looking altogether too pleased with himself.  
  
Her stomach clenched again, more violently this time, and she feared she might really become sick if she didn't get out of here soon. Fighting for control, she took stock of the faces around her.  "All right, boys, lets wrap this up and get back to work," Rogue spoke up, already turning and making her way back toward the upper levels.  
  
"Meet you there," Nightcrawler called, then was gone in a bamf of smoke, leaving behind the acrid stench of sulfur and brimstone.  
  
Actually, Rogue mused, it smelled a hell of a lot better than these tunnels did. She hurried her step, wanting to get as far away from the prison block and Amanda's body as possible.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Kitty sat suddenly bolt upright in bed, blasting awake, sweat pouring down her brow and a scream locked in the back of her throat. It took her a moment to recognize her surroundings, long enough for Piotr to wake and sit up in concern.  
  
"Katya? Are you alright?"  
  
"Bad dream," she managed to stutter out, still too shaken to talk about it.  
  
"Nightcrawler, again?," he asked quietly.   
  
She burst into tears, then, and he pulled her tight against him, letting her get it all out. He had begun to wonder, after all this time, after so many nightmares, if she would ever get over this. If Kurt had known the pain he still caused, even now, would he take pride in it? Piotr wondered. Somehow, he thought that their former friend probably would.  
  
"Why, Piotr?," she sobbed, her whole body shuddering against him. "Why did this have to happen to him?"  
  
He shook his head and held her close, knowing that there was no answer to the question, no matter how much both of them wished there was.  
  



	10. TDOAD Chapter 9: Cast Out

CHAPTER 9: CAST OUT  
  
Gambit knew he was in trouble the moment he stepped through the portal and back onto the mansion grounds. Instinctively ducking and rolling to the left, he nonetheless lost his balance and hit the ground, hard, as a blast of solid ice took him in the side. Ribs aching with the impact, he rolled again, struggling to regain his feet and take stock of the situation.  
  
He had barely made it to his knees when a thin beam of intense light hit him square in the chest, knocking him backward into the grass, forcing the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping for air. Flat on his back, he rested there for a moment, feigning being stunned while charging the card that he slipped from his coat sleeve. He knew the identities of the two who had ambushed them from their powers alone, and he knew that they would never hit him while he was down.  
  
"So how was your trip down under, cajun?," came Bobby's voice from just beyond his range of vision, and he could almost see the sneer on the younger boys face. Gambit smirked, and continued to play dead. Let them think I'm beat, he thought, they think they got the upper hand, they'll get sloppy. Just a little closer, he thought, just a little closer ice-boy, and you're all mine.  
  
Bobby's face appeared above him, sneering, just as Gambit had suspected. "Consorting with the enemy, Gambit? They got a word for that, you know…it's called treason. And you know the penalty for that, don't you?"  
  
"Yep, dat I do," Gambit shot back smoothly, even as he hooked his foot around Bobby's ankle and tripped him to the ground, simultaneously leaping up and letting the card fly from his grasp. Quickly, he dodged to the side, avoiding the resulting explosion which hit Bobby full in the face, knocking him unconscious. "But you see, I have dis strong aversion to bein' dead.." Yeah, snappy banter, Gambit, he thought, head turning quickly from side to side and looking for a way out. That's only half the threat you facin'. Where was Da--?  
  
Her light blast slammed into him so hard that he thought he was dead for sure…almost wished he was, his body hurt so bad. He groaned as he attempted to rise again, not feigning being stunned this time when his muscles refused to obey. His eyes rolled within their sockets, and he blinked them rapidly, trying to refocus enough to see what was going on around him. With an excruciatingly painful effort, he turned his head to the side, every muscle creaking in protest. Dazzler was busy tending to Bobby, probably worried that he had blasted the boys head right off. He had hit him hard, and the kid was probably still unconscious, but he would recover from it soon enough. Gambit planned to be long gone when he did. But how?  
  
Forcing his bruised muscles to move, he craned his head up, to the West from where he'd come, and was rewarded by the sight of Gateways portal, still held open, as if in invitation. Gateway, my friend, he thought, if you listenin', I could sure use a rescue here.   
  
The portal remained where it was…even worse, Dazzler had discovered Bobby was still breathing and was about to return her attention to him. They had gotten the drop on him alright, either that or he was losing a few steps. Probably a bit of both, he decided, biting down hard on the inside of his mouth to keep from crying out as he writhed through the grass toward the portal. Just a few feet more, he thought, almost there.  
  
He heard a movement behind him and instinctively rolled to the left. This time his reflexes paid off, even though his muscles screamed in pain, and the light blast seared the ground right next to his face. He blinked hard as the smoke caused his eyes to tear up, and tried not to think about what would have happened if he hadn't moved in time. Almost desperate now, he shoved himself forward, fingers just touching the crackling energy around the edge of the portal. It was enough. The sound of running footsteps faded behind him as the portal drew him in and snapped shut around him. An instant later, he lay facedown in the hot sand of the Australian desert.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Rogue eased back onto her bed, curling up tight within the luxurious satin sheets. She had missed practice this morning, for the first time in the past five months she had spent in the Brotherhood. She expected a knock on her door at any moment, either Nightcrawler or Creed coming to see what was wrong, but suprisingly, so far, she had been left completely alone. She had left Summers in charge of the group in her absence, knowing how much he relished the mantle of leadership, almost to the point of hating Rogue for taking the position he thought was rightfully his. Sometimes, she thought it was only the thought of his fate at the masters hands if he harmed her, that held him in check. Boy, if Summers could see me now, she thought, and chuckled wryly.  
  
She ran a hand through her unkempt hair, and heaved a shuddering sigh. She couldn't understand what was wrong with her. Ever since her mutant powers had developed, she'd never been a sick a day in her life, not even a sniffle or a cough. And yet, here she was today, curled up on her bed like a baby, focusing all of her attention on keeping her breakfast at bay. It couldn't have been the meal, she thought idly. She'd been eating grits and toast for breakfast for most of her adult life. So what did that leave?  
  
She rolled onto her side and drew the blankets up close around her. There was one other alternative, one she didn't even want to consider. The very thought made her soul shrink in terror. But if that's what it was…well, everyone would know soon enough, wouldn't they? Maybe she should just bite the bullet and schedule an appointment with Black Beast to run a test for the Legacy Virus. At least then she would know for sure. But in her heart, she was already convinced that was what it was. After all, what else could break down her formidable immune system after all these years?  
  
Laying a hand on her stomach to calm it, she bit down on her lower lip and concentrated against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. It worked…for about 2 minutes. Lying weakly before the toilet, arms resting on the smooth porcelain, she finally gave in to the tears behind her eyes.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"You did WHAT?!," Storm thundered, absolutely livid as she stared at the two faces before her. Lightning seemed to leap from her very eyes as her stare bore into them, and it took every bit of control she had to keep from lashing out with her power.  
  
"Ororo…what…?," Bobby stared back, utterly confused. He cast a sidelong glance at Alison, wondering if she had any clue as to what was going on. But from the look on her face, she was just as shocked as he.  
  
Storm continued speaking, very slowly, as if she were trying to contain her emotion by not letting her words come out too quickly. "You mean to tell me…that you nearly killed Gambit and then drove him back through the portal?"  
  
"Um..," Bobby looked to Dazzler again, as if for support, but she kept her eyes downcast. "Well…yeah…," he finished weakly, taking a step away from Ororo in case her anger should explode.  
  
Ororo would have throttled him in that very moment if not for her years of training in control of herself. Instead, she spun, turning her back to him as if the lack of his image would help calm her anger. "Do you realize what you have done?," she asked, her tone deathly quiet.  
  
"Um…apparently not. I mean I THOUGHT we were saving the teams collective butt…"  
  
She closed her eyes, bowing her head in sadness as she spoke, "You've sentenced one of our teammates to certain death."  
  
"But Storm! He would have turned us in to them! And if it's gonna be him or us, I'd rather it be him."  
  
"You have no idea what is going on here, Robert," she said, shaking her head. "But then, perhaps that is my fault. Were I in your place, I might have done the same. But then, I am the leader of this team, and report to no superior. You should have consulted me first, Robert."  
  
He stood, open mouthed and silent, completely taken aback by her attitude.  
  
"He was working for us, Robert," Storm continued more gently. "When Psylocke contacted him, it was not as if he had a choice but to go there. It was either that or death. I decided that we could turn it to our advantage by having him report back to us everything he could about our enemies. I did not tell anyone, except for Logan, because I did not want to alarm you any more than you already were."  
  
He fumbled for words, hardly believing what he was hearing. "B—but…how do you know he was working for us, really? He could just as easily have been telling them about US."  
  
"Trust, Robert," she said, moving to the window and staring out at the coming dawn. "I had to trust him. More than that, I wanted to trust him. We have so little we can depend on now…if not each other, then what?"  
  
The question was rhetorical, and for once, he didn't feel the need to make a flip comment. "But what about Psylocke?" he asked instead. "She could rip his thoughts from his mind in an instant and find out everything she needed to know about us."  
  
Storm nodded and leaned against the window pane, considering. "I thought about that, too. But I decided that it was worth the risk, to learn as much as we could. If that had been her objective, she simply would have done it to begin with." She paused momentarily, seeming to collect her thoughts. "No, I suspect Psylocke had another agenda. Though what, I could hardly guess, besides that it will not bode well for anyone."  
  
Dazzler shifted her weight from one foot to the other, maintaining her silence though it was clear that she was extremely uncomfortable by now. Bobby looked back to Storm, suddenly feeling very guilty for his actions. "You should have told us, Ororo. We would have found a way to deal with it."  
  
Again, she nodded. "I see that now. But it is far too late to change things. I can only pray to the Bright Lady that she helps him with what he is about to face."  
  
Bobby's brow furrowed, and he regarded her intently, trying to gauge the meaning of her words. "What do you mean?," he finally asked.  
  
"Because now that he no longer serves a purpose as a pipeline of supposed information about us…," she shuddered, not wanting to think about it. "Bright Lady preserve him, when Psylocke finds out."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
"Hey Wagner," Summers called across the room as he toweled himself off. "What's with your sister lately, anyway?"  
  
Nightcrawler hung suspended upside-down from the ceiling by his tail, smiling innocently as he met Summers penetrating look. "Vas?," he asked, wide eyed.  
  
Summers sighed in exasperation and took a few more steps toward Nightcrawler, letting the towel drop to the floor, forgotten. "I said, what's the matter with Rogue?"  
  
Nightcrawler returned his simmering gaze for a long, silent moment, then finally dropped to the floor, smile broadening into a grin. "There's nothing wrong with Roguey Rogue. She's doing just fine…for a woman in her condition," he added, his voice dropping slightly, as if he conferred some great secret.  
  
"Condition?" Summers blinked in confusion, obviously not understanding the meaning behind Kurt's reference.  
  
Kurt sighed and shook his head in mock sorrow. "Just like your brother was…so focused on duty that you hardly stop to notice what's going on around you."  
  
Now Summers eyes did flare, gaze narrowing dangerously upon his teammate. His expression grim, his words were clipped as he replied, "Do not ever mention my brother again if you value your life, Wagner."  
  
Kurt shrugged easily and let the remark slide off. "Whatever you say, Herr Summers. Besides, it's bound to hit you in the face sooner or later, given another couple of months."  
  
He cut him a sharp look, folding his arms over his chest and shifting his stance backward a bit. "Is she…sick?"  
  
"Ja," Kurt nodded, smiling.  
  
"Then…why are you so happy about it?," Summers asked suspiciously.  
  
Kurt raised his brows, looking genuinely suprised. "Why am I so happy?" He began to chuckle mirthfully, highly amused by Summers inability to see what was right before his face. Laughing aloud, he slung an arm around the younger mans shoulders companionably. "Because, my dear boy….I'm going to be an uncle!"  
  
Kurt would have paid money for a picture of the expression on Summers' face at that moment.  
  



	11. TDOAD Chapter 10: Revelations

CHAPTER 10: REVELATIONS  
  
Psylocke paced agitatedly back and forth through the central chamber of the complex. Things were not working out according to plan.  
  
She had already received word of Gambits speedy return to Australia and his expulsion from the X-Men, an event that sent her scheme spiraling out of control. His 'purpose' as a pipeline of information from the X-Men was now rendered invalid, completely destroying her plans for reintegrating him into Rogues life. Now that he no longer served a purpose, the master would surely decree the cajuns death. He had only survived this long on the masters good graces, which Psylocke had pleaded from him. She had convinced him that the cajun could eventually lead the X-Men right into their laps, given adequate time to regain their trust, avoiding the need to confront them on their home ground. And to avoid a battle in the X-Mens backyard was something the master wanted to avoid at all costs, something all of them wanted to avoid.   
  
The Shadow King had succeeded in killing all the telepaths in the world, save herself, whom he had spared, but the end result of that was something no one could have forseen. Each of them had died an agonizing death, their brains shattered into a thousand tiny fragments by the psionic wave the Shadow King had unleashed upon the world.  That part, at least, had gone according to plan. But he had not counted on the psychic residue their horrible deaths had left behind. Dying in so much anguish, the psionic energies left behind in their passing became the Shadow Kings greatest bane. It was ironic, Psylocke thought, that even from beyond the grave, the former X-Men still thwarted him. Their combined psionic energy, concentrated in the place they had died, created a psionic shield around the mansion grounds with a backlash hard enough to fry even the most hardened telepaths brain. Their dying mental screams still surrounded the mansion, forming a 'telepath kill zone' where even the Shadow King could not enter. One could not even get within a mile of it before developing a monstrous headache, she knew from experience. So they had reformed their attack strategy. It would be easy enough, they had supposed, to send their lackeys to take care of the X-Men where they could not. But as they soon came to realize, even those who had been touched by the Shadow King could not enter there. The Shadow King had not followed the tenets of most telepaths, he did not use his power simply to touch or communicate with the mind of another. Instead, he reached into the mind forcibly and twisted things, bringing the darkness of ones soul to the fore and destroying all else. They had his touch upon them, however slight, the manipulation of their neural passages and brain waves making them succeptable to the deadly psionic energy surrounding the mansion. They had died in less time than it took to scream. The surviving X-Men, it seemed, were safe and sound tucked away in their home.   
  
At least from anyone twisted by the Shadow King or herself. That was why the Brotherhood needed all the willing recruits they could round up, though those were few and far between. Rogue herself had the touch of master upon her, and far too much of his attention, as well, in her own opinion. Gambit had been the first hope to come along in some time…he could lead the X-Men to them, which Psylocke highly doubted though she had convinced the master of such. Or, more likely and far better to Psylockes liking, he could persuade Rogue back to the team and take away the threat to the masters empire. Rogue might be leader of the Brotherhood, but her heart remained that of a hero. By the same token, the master was far too fond of Rogue, a weakness created by the host body he wore, no doubt. That weakness could be far too easily exploited, and Psylocke meant to see that it never came to that. If the master lost his hold on this world, everything she held dear would crumble around her. She would die before she let that happen. And if the master ordered the cajun dead now out of some strange form of jealousy, her best chance at eliminating Rogue as a threat would be gone. Would that she could simply kill the girl and be done with it. But she knew that if she did, her own death would follow at the masters hand, another testament to his remaining feelings for Rogue.   
  
Damn, she mentally cursed her own misfortune. She needed the cajun, he was no good to anyone, dead. But the master would surely see to his death…unless she could convince him of another use. Her pace increased, fueled by her restlessness as her mind searched desperately for a new plan. She needed more time.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"P-pregnant?" Rogue mouthed the word, unable to find her voice as she echoed the Black Beast's pronouncement.  
  
"Why, Rogue," the Beast said with feigned surprise, "you look so terrified that one would think I had just told you that you DID have the Legacy Virus."  
  
Nightcrawler snickered from his perch atop the lab table, but remained silent as he caught a simmering glance from his sister.  
  
"H—how far along?," she asked, forcing the words from her throat. She had hardly gotten them out when another wave of nausea hit, causing her to groan and clutch at her stomach.  
  
"About two months, I would say." The Beast turned back toward his monitor, entering a few more pieces of data from his notes.   
  
"But…how?" she asked, more to herself than anyone else, completely shocked by the revelation.  
  
Nightcrawler snickered again, and this time, was unable to hold his tongue. "Sister, if you need to ask 'how', I believe there is a certain cajun who would be happy to show you the correct procedure. Again."  
  
She flushed bright red, embarrassed as much by her own question as his response. "Ah know HOW, Kurt. Ah just can't believe it." Her mind reeled with complete and utter astonishment. All her life, she'd never even been able to touch anyone, much less kiss or experience anything more intimate. She'd given up hope long ago of ever having a family, that dream with the little cottage and a white picket fence, it hadn't been meant for people like her. She'd never imagined that she'd even be able to touch another person without fear of draining them of their memories and abilities, much less have children with them. And now…she was…  
  
The Black Beast's voice cut into her thoughts, continuing in his calm, methodical way. "The fetuses are extremely healthy; developing at the normal rate, all vital signs stable. And, according to the DNA samples I managed to extract, male and female."   
  
For the second time that morning, her jaw sagged against her breastbone. "FetusES? As in more than one?," she asked, her voice rising with panic.  
  
"That much more to love, liebling," Nightcrawler soothed, leaping to her side and kissing her on the cheek. She stared at him as if he had lost his mind, then decided that he probably had as he grabbed her in a tight hug and grinned like a fool. "We're going to have twins!" he proclaimed excitedly, seeming overjoyed.  
  
Rogue moaned and clutched her stomach again.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"Angel--" Bobby nearly fell backward down the steps in an attempt to save his face from being caught in the slamming door. Regaining his balance, he sighed and put his hands on the door frame, continuing his sentence to the hard wood in front of him. "Angel, you've got to come out of there sometime." He flinched and nearly fell again as he heard a glass object shatter against the other side of the door in the general vicinity of his face. "Alright, have it your way," he sighed in a resigned voice, turning away from the door and starting down the hall.  
  
"Girl troubles, Drake?" came a raspy, slightly amused voice from just around the corner. A moment later, Logan stepped into full view.  
  
"Yeah, you could say that." Bobby sighed again, looking back toward the closed door. "You think she'll ever forgive me?"  
  
"If there's one thing I learned in this life, Drake, it's that anything is possible. 'Course, I wouldn't go holdin' my breath if I were you."  Logan chuckled and lit a cheroot, squinting at Bobby through the resulting cloud of smoke.  
  
Bobby waved the smoke away in annoyance, his face drawing up in a disgusted expression. "I think holding my breath would be preferable to inhaling that rot."   
  
"Puts hair on your chest, Drake." Logan puffed cheerfully on his cheroot and leaned against the railing.  
  
"You get any hairier, Logan, and we'll have to put you on display as 'The Missing Link'," Bobby chuckled. Already ducking from the expected blow, he was surprised when Logan only cut him a sidelong glance, one corner of his mouth turning up around the cheroot.   
  
"Well, that'd be two X-Men you put in the pages o' history, wouldn't it?"  
  
Bobby immediately looked chagrined, smile fading from his face as he muttered under his breath, "Looks no one is ever gonna forgive me…."  
  
"Well, 'ro's still plenty mad at you, that's for sure," Logan said, keeping his voice non-committal.  
  
"Speaking of which," Bobby said, looking around, "where IS good old 'ro today? Last I remember, she almost fried you alive for smoking in the house."   
  
"Out tendin' the gardens. She'll be gone for the better part o' the day. And you'd best be worryin' about yerself, Drake, 'cause when she--"  
  
"Logan!" Ororo's voice sounded angrily through the house, and both Bobby and Logan flinched as a door somewhere downstairs slammed shut.  
  
"Sounds like she's close," Bobby whispered, his grin returning.  
  
Logan nodded, looking right, then left, thoughtfully.   
  
"Logan! I know you are here, I can smell the smoke!" Her voice sounded much closer.  
  
Logan looked at Bobby, then down the hall again, calmly taking another puff of his cheroot. "Race ya to the doghouse, Drake."  
  
They both took off running down the hall like all the demons of hell were at their heels.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Gambit was sitting at her bedside, nursing a glass of bourbon when Rogue returned to her room. She stopped dead, not having expected to see him for several days. "What're you doin' here, Remy?"  
  
"Jus' couldn't stay away, petite," he said, smiling charmingly as he set his glass aside and rose to meet her. His expression changed rapidly from happiness to concern as she passed right by him and threw herself down on the bed. Frowning, he sat down on the bed beside her. "Petite? You alright?"   
  
She buried her face in her pillow for a long moment, not answering him until he nudged her gently. Sighing, she rolled over and met his concerned gaze with a wan look. "No, Ah'm not alright, Remy."  
  
"You are lookin' a little green 'round the gills, chere," he agreed, observing her pale complexion. "Was wrong?"  
  
"You don't wanna know," she replied, rolling her eyes up toward the ceiling.  
  
"C'mon, ma cherie. You can tell ol' Remy," he coaxed, slipping into what he apparently thought was his charming, third person speak.  
  
Finally annoyed, she sat up, meeting his gaze firmly this time as she asked, "How do you feel about bein' a daddy, Mr. LeBeau?"  
  
She watched with complete satisfaction as his jaw fell from its socket.  
  



	12. TDOAD Chapter 11: Of Love and Hope

CHAPTER 11: OF LOVE & HOPE  
  
Gambit resembled nothing so much as a dying fish in that moment as he gasped for air, mouth opening and closing helplessly. Rogue idly mused that the illusion would be complete if he were to fall to the floor and begin flopping around, and she chuckled at that thought, despite the severity of the moment and the state of her current situation.  
  
He seemed to regain a bit of control as he heard her stifled laugh, mouth closing with a snap of finality. "You mean…I'm goin' to be a daddy, chere?," he asked, his voice still weak and thin despite his regained composure.  
  
The moment of humor fled, and she tensed again, knowing that this moment was crucial, both to her, and her children's lives. His poker face had returned, offering her little comfort and reminding her that she had no idea how he might react to this news. She simply nodded in response, not trusting herself to speak.  
  
He stood up, rising from the bed as if rising from a dream. One hand rubbed his angular, stubbly chin thoughtfully as he turned away from her, letting the news sink in.  
  
Rogues heart sank as she watched him, the silence between stretching out into long minutes of agony. Her eyes followed him as he moved to the window, leaning down and placing his hands on the sill to support himself. She could see that the sudden announcement had held no less surprise for him than it did for her, and perhaps even less joy. Her own happiness seemed to depend on his reaction at this point, though she knew that even if he turned his back on her now, she would go on and raise the children by herself. The very thought frightened her, and again, she was ironically amused that after all she had been through in her life, all the times she had stared death in the face, that this, the simple thought of bearing children, shook her to the core of her soul. Still, the silence stretched on, and finally, she could bear it no longer. "Remy…Ah know this is--"  
  
He turned back toward her, shaking his head. "Shh…no words now, petite." He moved back to her side and sat down on the bed again, placing a gentle finger upon her lips. "You let ol' Remy have his say 'fore you be goin' on about anything."  
  
She met his eyes tentatively, nodding as she tried to read the expression within them.  
  
He let his fingers slide from her lips then, coming to rest on the thick comforter she had wrapped herself up in. His gaze fell to his hand as well, staring at it as if he didn't really see it, as if he were gazing off into some distant, far away space. He began speaking, slowly at first, as he struggled with the words.  
  
"Ain't no secret, chere, dat dis cajun ain't never been one much for settlin' down. All my life, I been without much in the way of family, running from one caper to the next without a care. I never wanted to care, chere. Carin' never brought me anything but hurt. So I threw myself into a life of thievery, becoming one of the best at what I did. I concentrated on it to the exclusion of almost everything else in life. Den Belle came along. I was promised to her, I never had a real choice. Within de guild, you have responsibilities, duties dat have to be fulfilled. What was between us….dat was never really love, now dat I look back on it. It was simply a necessity to bring peace between two guilds. Dere were other femmes, of course, over de years….de one Sabretooth told you about," he visibly winced as he mentioned that, as if the memory caused him physical pain, then pushed on. "And others, lots of others. But love…? Dat was the one thing dat always seemed to escape me." He broke of momentarily then, shaking his head, and she resisted the urge to reach out and comfort him, determined to hear everything he had to say before making any kind of decision.  
  
He sighed heavily, and continued. "So I did what I did best all those years, livin' off whatever I could steal. I convinced myself dat I was happy with dat, jus' me an' my money. But all dat changed de day Stomry came walkin' into my life. She showed me dat life could be so much more, dat dere were things in this life worth believing in, worth fighting for, worth dying for, even. It didn't happen right away, but over time, de more time I spent with de X-Men, de more I came to think the same way." He paused then, lifting his eyes to meet hers finally as he spoke his next words. "But it wasn't til you came along, chere, dat I started believin' in love."  
  
Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, and she almost reached for him again. Then she shoved away the urge, reminding herself that for all that he had said, he had really told her nothing yet. For her sake, for the babies sake, she had to be strong. She couldn't afford to waste time on a man not willing to make a commitment to his own children, more than that, she didn't want to waste time on a man like that. She steeled herself as she waited for him continue, preparing herself for the worst even as some distant part of her hoped against hope, praying for him to speak the words she longed to hear.  
  
"I love you, chere," he repeated, affirming his declaration of a moment ago. "I think I always have. It was like I never had a choice, from de moment we first met. But dis time…not havin' a choice seemed like one of de best feelin's in de world. And still, for all dat I had found love, for all dat I had found dis wonderful thing…I couldn't believe in it enough to be straight with you." His gaze dropped again, as if he were ashamed of his admission. "I should have been…I know dat now. I knew it den, truth to tell. But I was afraid to tell you…afraid it would make you turn away from me. Dat I would lose de one woman in de world dat I could truly love. And in de end…I did. But not for de reasons I thought. If I had told you, if I had just been straight with you, things might have been different between us." He shook his head again, seeming to come back from his reverie, eyes taking on a more focused look as he looked to her again.   
  
"Can't do nothin' bout de past, chere. If anyone knows dat, it's me. I can't erase what I did for Sinister all those years ago, and I can't change what happened between us in Antarctica, either." He reached out, taking her hand in his, leaning close to her as his eyes searched hers, seeming to look deep within. "But I can decide what happens right here and now. I got a chance to get all dat happiness we had once, back again. An' dere ain't no way I'm gonna screw it up dis time. I love you chere, more dan anything else in dis world, an' be damned if I'm gonna walk away because our love brought a child into dis world, even if I don't think I'm ready for dat."  
  
"Children," she muttered numbly, still shocked by his words.  
  
"Children?" he repeated dumbly, that stupefied, blank look beginning to settle onto his face again.  
  
For a moment, she thought he would faint as she nodded in answer, and then, a bright smile began to spread over his face. "Twins?"  
  
She nodded again, afraid to speak, afraid that somehow it might shatter the moment, or wake her from what she feared might only be a dream.  
  
He laughed aloud then, throwing his arms around her and surprising her with the intensity of his embrace. Nuzzling his head against hers, the smile was evident in his voice as he spoke. "Hard as I find it to believe chere, I think I must be de happiest man alive right now. Imagine…we gonna have a family."  
  
She smiled at last, wrapping her arms about him tightly and squeezing him hard against her. Tears of happiness welled behind her eyes as she heard him speak. At last, at long last, she felt some hope for the future again; hers and Remy's, their children's, and the entire world. "Remy…Ah don't even know what to say…," she trailed off, surprised again as he suddenly drew back from her embrace. She watched curiously as he fiddled about the pockets of his trench coat, seemingly searching for something.  
  
"Drat..where did I…," he muttered, frowning, then smiled as he seemed to locate what he was looking for. "I was hopin' to do dis proper, chere…sometime after all dis nasty war business was done, preferably. And when I got up de nerve..," he added, voice lowering for a moment. Then his smile returned, and he slipped from the bed, sitting on his knees before her. "Took me some time to procure dis from de X-Men's storage basement, but I managed." He pulled a small pouch from his trench coat pocket and opened it, pausing before drawing out whatever hid within it as he looked up at her again. He leaned up to kiss her then, lips meeting hers in a gentle, lingering moment, barely drawing back as he pulled away and stared deep into her eyes. He reached for her hand and pulled it up just below his chin, eyes not straying from hers as he leaned down to kiss it and slipped something onto one of her fingers. "Rogue…ma cherie…will you make me de happiest man in de world an' marry me?"  
  
She gasped, eyes filling with tears as she looked down and saw her mothers engagement ring upon her finger, the emerald and its surrounding diamonds blurring as her tears finally spilled over. He must have gotten it from the things I left behind at the mansion, she realized dimly.  
  
"Sabine…mah name is Sabine, Remy...and yes, Ah will."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Later, as they lay entwined in each others arms, Gambit watched her as she slept cradled against him, eyes closed peacefully in contentment. He stroked her cheek softly with one finger, drinking in her beauty with his eyes as he let his thoughts drift. For all that the news had come as a surprise, he found himself genuinely happy at the thought of raising a family with Rogue, of finally attaining the happiness they had always longed for together. What he did not relish, was the thought of raising those children within the Brotherhood. True, he had come here on the pretense of being an ally to the Brotherhood while actually spying on them for the X-Men, but his true motivation for coming here had been her. It had always been about her. This woman whom he loved so fiercely, with everything in his soul. He would die for her, he knew…and for their children, doing anything he could to protect them. And letting them remain here, with the Brotherhood, was not his idea of protection.  
  
She stirred slightly, and he snuggled close against her, soothing her back into deep sleep. Holding her close, his eyes stared off into the darkness, beginning to glow intently as he plotted.  
  



	13. TDOAD Chapter 12: Stolen Lives

CHAPTER 12: STOLEN LIVES  
  
Gambit kissed Rogue cheerfully as he rose from the bed, smiling from ear to ear. "I tell you chere…dis de happiest I been in…," he paused, thinking hard. "….probably forever."  
  
She smiled back, leaning up to hug him. "You sure you have to go, shugah? Ah got a little while before practice…."  
  
He nodded, almost regretfully, hating the thought of leaving her even for an instant. "Have to keep up appearances, chere. Now dat I'm 'officially' part of de Brotherhood, dey expect me to bust my chops wit de rest of de new recruits," he rolled his eyes, obviously unhappy with the statement. It wasn't as if he had a choice, after all. If he meant to stay with Rogue, and he certainly did, then he would have to join the Brotherhood as a willing member. Or at least pretend to for a while…until he could get them out of here.  
  
"Okay then, shugah, you go on. Ah'll see you tonight." She smiled and kissed him again, and he found himself amazed, both by her beauty and her love for him. And to think…he had almost lost her…  
  
"I love you, chere," he said reverently, turning completely serious for a moment. "You can't imagine what dis means to me…what you mean to me….I never thought I'd have another chance, you know." He paused again, seeming to struggle with his next words. "I thought for sure I'd come back to find you wit Joseph, having forgotten all about me."  
  
Her face fell as he mentioned Josephs name, and he instantly regretted mentioning him. He had no idea why Joseph and Rogue had not ended up together while he was out of the picture, it had seemed a probable conclusion in his absence, but when he had found out that they hadn't, he hadn't even stopped to wonder why not. Now he thought maybe he should have. "Chere, I'm sorry…"  
  
She shook her head, smile returning though it was more faint than before. "It's alright, Remy. That was a long time ago, in another world. He's been gone for a long time…" she broke off, as if uncertain how to finish her sentence, then shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He's mah past, shugah. You…you are my present, my future."  
  
He was relieved by her words, feeling something unresolved within him finally laid to rest, at long last. He was tempted to ask what had happened, he knew that Joseph's name was not counted among the graves at the X-Men's home, but he didn't want to spoil the mood anymore than he already had. "Your future husband," he added, hardly believing the words even as they sprang lovingly from his lips.  
  
Her smile brightened, and she kissed him one last time before patting him gently on the backside and shooing him out the door. "Get on outta here now, before you're late and the Brotherhood decides to break our engagement…permanently."  
  
She said it lightly, playfully, but he barely repressed a shiver, knowing how truly she spoke. His position here was still too tenuous to be letting things slip. With a final kiss of her hand, he turned and hurried out the door.  
  
As the door closed behind him, Rogues smile faded and she settled back into the pillows restlessly, her mind filled with visions of a young, white-haired man who had once been so kind to her.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Gambits mood proved irrepressible as he made his way through the complex, his smile returning shortly after leaving the room. He would still make it on time, and his mind was too full of his potentially happy future to let any misgivings set in. Whistling happily as he picked up his pace, he never saw the three men who leaped from the corridor behind and opened fire on him.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
In the citadel at the top of the world, a dark presence moved, awakened from its trance-like state. He had been concentrating on Rogue, or more specifically, the growing presences within her. The children were of particular interest to him, and he wanted to learn all that he could about them. Their potential power would certainly be useful to him in the future…still, it seemed he would have to wait until after they were born to learn more about them. Rogues psyche had always been incredibly hard to read with the Kree portion she had stolen from Carol Danvers, and he could not seem to pick up the childrens budding thoughts through the static it created. Every now and then though, he caught a stray thought, or a particularly strong emotion….like now.   
  
The vision of a young white-haired man with a face so like his own had appeared unbidden within his mind, a projection from Rogue, he assumed. That was a face he had not thought about in years…why did it seem to trouble him so, now?  
  
Within, he felt a subtle shifting of the psyche whose body he shared, a change in the flow of its normal stream of consciousness thought process. When he had possessed Magnus' body, the host had had little choice....there had been so little left of his brain he could not even have put up a decent struggle if he'd wanted to.  Still, when he had entered Erik Lensherrs shattered mind, he had felt what little remained reach out eagerly, willingly, desperate to grasp hold of life in whatever form it could. The merging had been an easy success, almost flawless. For the last two years, he had inhabited this body with little to no conflict with its persona.   
  
At first, Magnus had hidden himself deep, whatever pieces that were left of his psyche withdrawing below the Shadow Kings level of normal awareness. There were times when he had even forgotten that Magnus was there. But as time had progressed, the disjointed thoughts that were Magnus had come slowly to the fore, making themselves known, and the Shadow King had known that he would have to integrate Magnus somehow, to establish peace between them. The host body worked best when it was happy with the joining, and a will like Magnus', even diminished as it was, could prove troublesome if he paid it no heed. So he had begun to allow for its slight influences, as long as they continued to serve his purpose. There were very few things which could urge the fragmented persona to assert itself and make its will known. Now seemed to be one of those times.  
  
He could certainly understand why. Joseph had been something of an enigma to Magnus, and evoked strong emotion within the remains of his mind, but the Shadow King had never determined the basis for them beyond the fact that Joseph had been a carbon copy of the man, right down to his mutant abilities. Even when he had absorbed Joseph's mind, he had found no answers…the man never even knew who he had been. He had sprung to life from nothing, it seemed, and died ignorant of how or why. Well…not exactly died….  
  
Was it that nagging presence of Magnus within him that caused his footsteps to turn toward the room beneath the citadel? Or perhaps, a morbid sense of satisfaction in his own work? He pondered his own motives as he walked through the darkened corridors, footsteps echoing hollowly around him. Taking out Joseph had never even been a question for the Shadow King. Of all the X-Men, of all the heroes in existence, Joseph had posed him the greatest threat. He could have matched Magnus in sheer power, if not experience, and the Shadow King had not been willing to take the chance of losing his perfect host body. Indeed, the young man had put up quite a struggle, turning Magnus' power back on him before the Shadow King had reached inside his mind and turned him off. He had stripped Joseph's mind then, absorbing all of his thoughts and making them part of him. There had been much knowledge of power there, still untapped because of his struggle to regain his memories. If left alone and given time to discover his past and unlock his potential, Joseph might have grown even more powerful than Magnus. His persona had meshed well with the host body and lent itself toward making Magnus' vessel even more indestructible. Best of all, he had never heard a peep from it, not even a whisper to give testament to its presence within him. He wondered sometimes if perhaps that was where Magnus' mind had regained its presence, by integrating Joseph's mind with his. If Joseph had been Magnus' clone, as many suspected, it would make perfect sense. The Shadow King had taken that into consideration before claiming Joseph, and had judged the young man as being to disjointed in his own thoughts to pose much of a threat, even if he merged with Magnus' remaining psyche. Even now, if the two of them were combined, they still did little to affect his will, and so, he rarely dwelled on it. But in moments like these, he found himself considering the possible implications thoroughly.  
  
There were times when it was hard to tell his own urges apart from Magnus', they were so subtle and so much a part of him. Psylocke worried that Magnus influenced him far too often, especially in the case of Rogue….and he had to admit, that had it been his will alone, he probably would never have given her control of her powers and made her part of the Brotherhood. But he shared this vessel with another, and though it was mostly a phantom presence, it could be very annoying at times to deal with. He had more important things to concentrate on now that he had the world beneath his heel. He didn't have time for petty internal conflict. And Rogue had served them well so far. But Joseph? He had cared nothing for the man, beyond the purpose he could serve someday.  
  
As he reached the door below, he paused for a moment, considering what lay within and again, why it should seem to trouble him so. He shrugged off the indecision and used his magnetic power to unseal the door, casting off the trepidation which certainly must be a lingering emotion from Magnus' psyche.  
  
The light from within was extremely dim as he entered, but he floated past the illuminating switches without a second thought, completely fascinated by the miracle before him. It was a marvel of technology, really, he thought as he examined it. It had never ceased to amaze him every time he witnessed it.  
  
Joseph hung suspended within a cylindrical tube that reached from ceiling to floor, any number of wires and pipes sprouting from its base like roots from a gnarled and twisted tree. The dim blue light from within the tube cast eerie shadows over his features, serving as the only source of light for the room. His face was nearly lost to the darkness, but what could be seen of it was peaceful enough in expression. Indeed, what could trouble a man without a mind? the Shadow King thought, wickedly bemused.   
  
He had questioned his decision to keep Joseph after he had separated the mans mind from his body, but he had surmised that even as vegetable the duplicate could serve a purpose. After all, Magnus' body would not live forever, indeed, it had already seen better days. Joseph, on the other hand was young, and nearly an exact duplicate of Magnus, even sharing the same power. When Magnus' body had served his purpose, Joseph would make a nice replacement. The Shadow King had been careful only to strip his mind of thoughts and memories, leaving behind the pathways to access his power, just in case. And if, because his mind had been so completely wiped, Joseph proved useless as a host, Sinister could always clone another Magnus. It was producing a clone with identical powers that would be hard, and Joseph was convenient because his power still remained. It could be done though, given time.  
  
He stood for a moment, admiring Joseph's still form behind the glass. His body was perfectly preserved within the case, halting his aging process completely and shutting down whatever rudimentary thought was left. He had no need for his brain to tell him to breathe, or to tell his heart to beat…no, Joseph was beyond all that now. He was captured forever outside of time in eternal youth….a living corpse. Truly, the Shadow King thought as he exited the room, suspended animation was a wonderful thing.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Psylocke couldn't believe her good fortune. In the space of a few hours, her plans had gone from dismal to right back on track. With the news that Rogue was pregnant, she had managed to convince the master that he could not kill the childrens father. At least, not until after they were born. To do anything prior to that would endanger Rogues state of mind. As delicate and mercurial as pregnant womens emotions tended to be, who could predict what the repercussions would be? It would certainly affect her ability to lead the Brotherhood, if not send her running straight back to the X-Men. Reluctantly, the master had agreed with her logic, realizing as she did, that if all continued to go according to Psylockes new plan, they would only need Rogue for a few months more, anyway. And for this plan, she also needed the cajun quite badly…or his mind, at least.   
  
She glanced at the console, noting the time and wondering where the object of her thoughts could be. The guards should have brought him in by now…her train of thought broke off as the door to the lab slid open.  
  
"You're late," she snapped.  
  
The guards shuffled their feet and looked at each other uncertainly, and after a moment she snorted and turned, motioning to the table nearby.  
  
Obediently, the guards dragged in their captive, throwing him gracelessly onto the table and fastening the manacles about his limbs. When the last one was snapped into place, they stepped back and looked to Psylocke in silent question.  
  
She nodded once, and they scurried from the room like rats from a sinking ship. A cruel smile twisted her dark lips, taking momentary pleasure in the fear she inspired before turning to examine her new captive. She paused only briefly, taking one sweeping glance over his form before grabbing him roughly by the chin and slapping his face in an attempt to wake him.  
  
"Time to pay the piper, Gambit," she said aloud, her smile growing ever wider with each resounding slap.  
  



	14. TDOAD Chapter 13: Bad Dreams

CHAPTER 13: BAD DREAMS  
  
Kitty was dreaming, twisting the sheets as she writhed in terror, running within her mind from the all too familiar nightmare. It caught her, as it always did, pulling her in slowly, inexorably, until she was trapped within her dream self, knowing exactly what was to come and helpless to prevent it. She watched from behind her dream-self's eyes as the scenario played itself out…  
  
She had returned to the Excalibur lighthouse, now an empty shell of what it had once been. This place held more ghosts now than it did good memories. Rachel, Illyana…her two best friends had passed from this life during her days here, Brian and Meggan were dead now, too, Pete was gone. There was nothing left for her here now that Nightcrawler and Colossus had returned to the X-Men. Yet she had felt the need to return, to gather together the pieces of themselves they had left behind, their belongings…to say goodbye.   
  
She had scarcely had time to pack anything when the X-Men's distress call had gone out, none of them had. During the horrors that followed their arrival back in the US, most of them had even forgotten they had another life to return to. They were needed there, to continue the battle against the Shadow King, and none of them dared to take off across the ocean on their own. Besides, Nightcrawler and Colossus had hardly seemed to care. They were too busy making plans and training for battle. She wondered if anyone had noticed she was missing yet. She shrugged and continued to gather up her things, doubting it highly.  
  
After a while, she had settled into her favorite old, overstuffed chair, curling up with one of her favorite novels she had found lying about. For a brief moment, she had been swept away by the story, a smile finding her face for the first time in many weeks. She must have dozed off sometime shortly after that, for the next she had known, someone was shaking her gently awake.  
  
"Katchzen?"  
  
"Oh…hi, Kurt," she had yawned, stretching languidly in the chair. "Guess you guys noticed after all."  
  
"But of course we did, Kitty. What were you thinking, taking off like that without telling anyone? It's a good thing I figured out where to find you or--"  
  
"Or what? I'd be dead like everyone else?," she had asked, matter of factly.  
  
He had fallen silent then, not wanting to think about the truth of her words, perhaps, and she had continued her tirade.  
  
"Like the Professor? And 'Yana? And Jubilee, and Cannonball, and Brian and Meggan?" Angry tears had begun to form in her eyes, the pain still fresh enough to bring them on in a moment.  
  
His face sad, he had turned to hug her, and she gratefully fell into the embrace. They hugged in silence for a long time, taking comfort in each other and their friendship. "At least I still have you and Piotr," she said finally, wiping the tears from her cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without--"  
  
She had broken off then, freezing in complete and utter shocked silence as she felt Kurt's hand slide from her waist to her hip. What had been a brotherly, comforting embrace a moment ago had suddenly turned into something much more. She was so shocked, that she would have been dead then and there but for the fact that she drew back in surprise.   
  
His sword missed her heart by a bare inch, driving painfully through her ribs and into her lung. The pain was more intense than anything she could ever recall feeling, but even beyond that was the overwhelming, terrifying fear that she suddenly felt for the man who had been like a brother to her, her best friend. Between the pain and shock, she hadn't even thought to phase, and probably couldn't have concentrated enough to do so if she had.  
  
"Still kicking, Katchzen?," he asked mockingly, looming over her. The shadows that had ever covered his face seemed to have grown, spreading until only the barest features were recognizable, yellow eyes glowing like twin fires in the darkness. Kitty focused hard on simply breathing, but was unable to supress the thought that he now resembled a demon more than ever. "You surprise me, liebling," he said casually, sliding deftly into the chair beside her. "Perhaps there is time for a bit of fun after all, nein?" He had grabbed her forcefully then, pulling her closely to him, and she marveled at his surprising strength even as her mind began to retreat into unconsciousness, seeming to welcome the oblivion.  
  
She fought hard against it, pushing herself to remember her training, shoving him away with all her might and ripping her shirt to shreds in the process. He had held the tattered pieces of it in his hands as he grinned madly at her. "I love it when a woman struggles. It makes it so much more fun." He leapt for her then, but this time, she was ready, phasing through the floor and all the way down to the main room of the lighthouse. Black spots danced before her eyes, the loss of blood threatening to end any chance of escape. She gasped for breath, one hand pressed over the cut in her chest as she thought desperately for a way out. She didn't dare go up into the air, though he couldn't reach her there, with the loss of blood, she was in too much danger of falling, herself. She was distracted from her thoughts as a sudden bamfing sound and the stench of sulphur and brimstone filled the air, announcing Nightcrawler's arrival. He leered at her evilly, advancing in for the kill.  
  
"Why?," she managed to choke out through her disbelief and pain. "Why, Kurt?"  
  
"Because my master would approve," he answered simply, making another a leap for her.  
  
Pinned beneath his weight, she had stared up into those yellow eyes, those eyes that had always held so much compassion, so much joy for life. She stared for what seemed an eternity, barely noticing as he ripped away the remainder of her shirt, searching desperately for some sign of the soul those eyes had once given voice to. There was nothing…they were flat, empty, cold. Filled with the Shadow King, now, she knew. She shut her eyes tight then, tears squeezing hotly from behind them.  
  
"Oh, now, Katchzen. Don't cry," he had soothed, stroking her cheek. "You might even enjoy this."  
  
She awoke at that precise moment, as she always did. Sweating, shaking, out of breath, just as she had been in her dream. Sobbing as well, she thought, wiping angrily at her cheek. She had escaped the dream, finally, but it never ended there. No, she remembered every last detail of it, to the bitter end.  
  
Still sobbing, she had phased through the floor and into the earth, leaving her clothes behind in his hands. She held her breath for as long as she could, letting the earth rotate about her in its daily cycle. She almost passed out again, the pain in her ribs and her failing lung robbing her of her stamina. She had emerged only after she was sure the ocean had passed by above her, and lay gasping for breath on the mainland of Britain. Someone had found her, though she was unconscious at the time and didn't know who. All the X-Men had said was that they received a call from W.H.O. and had headed right out to pick her up.   
  
She had nearly died from the wound he had given her, spending weeks in the infirmary and hours under the constant care of the little Shi'ar technology they retained. Even now, she still bore the scar from that wound, just below her left breast. It was a constant reminder of that day…and of what had happened to the wonderful man who had once been as a brother to her. Still, it could not compare to the scar she carried within. His blade had missed her heart that day, but his actions had pierced it as deeply, as irreparably, as if she had been mortally wounded.  
  
The tears renewed with that thought, she sank back down onto the bed, burying her face in her pillow.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Gambit slowly climbed toward consciousness, the stinging pain in his face calling him insistently forth from the thick blackness he seemed to be swimming in. His vision was fuzzy as he opened his eyes, and it took him a few minutes to adjust to the sudden bright light. He had enough presence of mind to note that the stinging in his face had subsided a bit, and then to wonder just where the hell he was. Last thing he could remember, he had walking down the hallway toward the practice room…then…nothing.  
  
The room swam into focus an instant later, and he realized he was lying down on a table of sorts. Experimentally, he tried moving his limbs, and panicked for a moment when he thought he was paralyzed. He was not much more mollified to find that they were strapped down, instead. Craning his neck to the left, he tried to get a sense of where he was being held prisoner.   
  
"I see you have joined the land of the living, Mr. LeBeau. How very gracious of you." Psylockes beautiful face wore its usual predatory expression as she moved into his view.  
  
"More than I can say for how you be treatin' your guests," he croaked out.  
  
"I find that hospitality rarely has advantages," she replied, moving closer to him. "It's so much easier to simply take what you need, don't you think?," she asked, now looming over him with a faint smile.  
  
"Not very ladylike of you, though, Betsy."  
  
"I gave up being a lady a long time ago, cajun. I should think that's obvious by now."  
  
He nodded, looking about the room with more interest as his mobility slowly returned. "So…you bring me here to chit-chat, or you gonna get to torturin' me anytime soon?"  
  
"Well, by all means, let's get down to business, then," she said, smiling more broadly and igniting her psi-knife.   
  
Remy cringed inwardly, knowing the damage that weapon of hers could do though he had never experienced firsthand. Still, he kept up his bravado. "You gonna tell me why you're doin' dis, first, chere?"  
  
"Oh, did I forget to explain that?," she asked, smiling sweetly. "Well, I truly doubt you'll just give me the information I need regarding the X-Men, and even if you did, I couldn't trust you, now could I? After what you went through in Antarctica, I don't believe you'd ever betray them again. Besides, this way is so much more fun."  
  
"Den why did you hire me on to spy on dem in de first place?"  
  
"I have my reasons….but don't worry, even though you won't be responsible for what happens to them, I'll be sure you get all the blame. If you live. After all, I only need your memories...not your body.   
  
Gambit grimaced and tested the strength of the manacles which held him, then tested to see how his power was holding up. Nothing…whatever they had zapped him with, or something about these manacles was inhibiting his mutant abilities.  
  
"Now…lie still, this will hurt…a lot." Grinning madly, she shoved her psi-knife deep into his brain.  
  
Gambit's screams echoed throughout the entire complex as she began to tear his mind apart, piece by piece.  
  



	15. TDOAD Chapter 14: The Ties That Bind

CHAPTER 14: THE TIES THAT BIND  
  
Gambit awoke feeling as if his head were on fire. Every nerve stood on end, screaming in searing pain, every muscle locked tight in the paralysis of his misfiring nervous system. Reflexively, he opened his eyes, then shut them tight as a red flare of agony blossomed behind them, protesting the bright light of the room.  
  
Psylocke chuckled as she watched him clench his eyes shut in pain, dabbing a bit of drool from his chin as he stirred. "Well, it seems you are still part of the living, LeBeau." She paused, taking another moment to admire her work. "Doesn't it feel wonderful?," she asked with a malicious smile.  
  
Her voice grated painfully against the pounding in his head, sending sharp knives through his brain. He tried to grunt in protest of the sudden, excruciating intrusion, and succeeded only in firing off another wave of agony throughout his body. Incredibly, he pushed past the pain, managing to slur out a few words through his numb lips.  
  
Amazed that he could even do that much, Psylocke leaned down to hear him better. "What did you say?"  
  
Gambit gritted his teeth and stared her straight in the eye with all the burning hatred in his heart. "You…bitch," he slurred again, this time slightly more coherently.  
  
Psylocke threw back her head and laughed, causing his head to flare with fire again. He squinted against it, but kept his eyes on her, waiting for her to retaliate. She leaned close down to him after a moment, so close that he would have recoiled from her if he had been able. Her breath was hot against his face as she spoke.  
  
"Remy…you haven't seen 'bitch', yet."  
  
The truly frightening part, he thought, was that he believed her.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue was absolutely livid as she paced the length of the room, emerald eyes fairly shooting sparks into the semi-darkness. "She did WHAT?"  
  
"Please, chere, not so loud," Gambit moaned, holding his still throbbing head remorsefully.  
  
Rogue seemed not to hear him, or even expect an answer to her question as her fury increased. "Ah oughta go down and rip the little hussy's head off," she fumed as her  pace increased.  
  
Gambit sighed, feeling something like resignation settle over him as he watched Rogue vent her anger. Her moods had been alarmingly amplified of late, a common symptom of pregnancy, he had been informed, and he was slowly growing used to her sporadic emotions. Still, he felt she was missing the larger point, here. "Chere, I ain't to happy wit her myself, right now. My head still feels like it's about to split in two…but dat ain't de point."  
  
She stopped her furious pacing and turned to look at him with seething green eyes, anger smoldering just behind the calm set of her face. For a moment, he considered the wisdom of trying to reason with her right now, wondering if he might not inadvertently turn the full force of her rage on him. Then he recalled his day up to this point and decided that he didn't have much left to lose. Besides, if she clocked him, he'd be rid of this thudding ache in his head for a bit.  
  
"What's more important," he continued, keeping his voice deliberately low and neutral, "is what she took from dis head o' mine." He had her full attention now, he saw, and plunged ahead before he could screw it up somehow. "Before she knifed me, she hinted that whatever information she was taking from me would be used against de X-Men. Now, I wasn't wit dem for too long, but in four months, I learned a lot about their home, their security, and a lot o' other things. Whatever she managed to sort out from this brain o' mine might just be de key to the final destruction of de team." He shook his head helplessly. "But I don't know what it might have been."  
  
Rogue continued to stand in stony silence as he spoke, waiting for him to finish.   
  
He ran a hand through his hair and looked to her helplessly. "I…just don't know what to do," he added finally. "We can't warn them if we don't know what's coming."  
  
"Shugah, we couldn't warn them if we DID know what was coming," she responded, a bit more sharply than she had intended. "First off, all transmissions from this base are monitored. Second, that would be an ultimate betrayal of the Brotherhood, which ah am supposed to lead. Do you know what the penalty for that is?," she asked, her fiery eyes never leaving his.  
  
He nodded once, knowing she didn't really expect an answer. Of course they all knew what that would mean; instantaneous death for anyone involved. "But chere," he pleaded. "Isn't there something we can do?"  
  
She sighed and turned away from him, her heart torn between loyalties. She, too, wished that they could do something to help her former teammates, but by doing that, she would destroy everything she had built up here. And what exactly did she have here? asked a little voice in the back of her mind. She reflected on that for a long moment, wondering what exactly it was that made her cling to her position here so desperately. Was it perhaps because she had nothing else in her life? But that wasn't exactly true, anymore, was it? Not now that Remy had returned, and she was pregnant with their children. The Brotherhood might be her last alternative to live the life she had once known, but what about the life she had always longed to have? The one with picket fences and everlasting love? That was within her grasp now…did she dare to take the chance, or was she too afraid?  
  
She frowned and tried to clear her mind, realizing that these were not questions with easy and immediate answers. God knew she didn't want to raise her children within the Brotherhood, but if she wasn't with them, then she was against them, which meant her children would have even worse lives. The Brotherhood would never stop hunting for them. Worst of all, the X-Men would not offer her asylum, regardless of her reasons for seeking it. She sighed in frustration, feeling as trapped as a fly in a spiders web.  
  
"Chere..?"  
  
"Sorry…was just…considerin'," she replied, forcing herself to push the useless speculation aside. Regardless of however much reasoning she tried, she couldn't deny the truth in her heart. She had always known it would come down to this…that she would be forced to choose between the X-Men and the Brotherhood, but somehow, she had always managed to avoid thinking about it. Until now.  
  
She moved over to Gambits side and sat down on the bed, snuggling up to him. He leaned over and wrapped an arm around her, resting his chin on top of her head and holding her tight. She smiled and nuzzled closer, marveling at how wonderful it was to have someone who would support her, no matter what her decision. But then, he probably already knew her decision. They had always been similar at heart, struggling against their dark pasts to become true heroes.  
  
"Whatever we do, shugah, the consequences are gonna be terrible. You know that?"  
  
She felt his head shift against hers as he nodded again. "I know, chere. Been thinkin' about dat."  
  
"And...?," she asked, almost daring to hope that he had an answer.  
  
"I don't know….," he sighed. "But I know dat I have to do what's right. And I know dat you will, too. Maybe we can't warn them in advance, but we'll know de plan soon enough. If we're going after de X-Men, de best way we can help 'em is during de battle."  
  
Now it was her turn to nod. It made good sense, in that they could do little else right now but wait. They'd be more effective helping them on the battlefield once they knew what was going on, anyway.   
  
"But then, what happens to us?," she asked, her voice a whisper.  
  
"We live happily ever after," he responded immediately with a confidence he didn't feel, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.  
  
She smiled again, and squeezed him tight, pressing her head against his chest. She couldn't see his expression at that moment, but if she had, her smile would have died stillborn.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Wanda Maximoff sighed and turned away from the window that gave view to the courtyard, not wanting to watch Bobby and Angelica argue anymore. Young love, she thought wryly to herself, always such a tortured thing. They always make it harder than it has to be. She supposed though, that the same could have been said about her and Vision in the past. Their love had always been a struggle, a hope against hope, and in the end, doomed to failure. They had parted ways before the Psi-War, Vision having told her that he no longer retained emotions in his new form, and therefore felt nothing more for her. It had crushed her entire world to hear that admission, to know that he no longer loved her and was not capable of ever feeling so again. The wounds had taken a long time to heal, but Wonder Man, sweet Simon, had helped her through it all. Whatever had begun to bloom between them, however, had been cut short by the creature known as the Shadow King, she reflected sadly. Simon, Carol, Steve…Vision, all gone now. Only she and Firestar had managed to survive, with the X-Mens help. When the battle had ended and they retreated, the X-Men had offered she and Firestar a place alongside them. They had both accepted, having no home to return to at that point.  
  
And she had never regretted the decision, she thought, sinking into the window seat, her back to the glass. The X-Men had always made her feel at home here, and they had become more and more like family to her over time. With Pietro and Vision dead and her father possessed, she had precious little in the way of ties left. She had heard, over the last two and half years, though, rumors that Steve Rogers still lived, not dead after being buried beneath a ton of rubble by the Shadow King as everyone had presumed. In a way, she hoped that it was true, that he really was raising his own underground army to face off against the evil that now ruled the world. It gave her hope. But despite her former ties to the man known as Captain America, she had come to feel her place was here, among her fellow mutants, among her new family. She had no desire to seek him out, but she wished him all the best.  
  
She was startled from her reverie by a sudden presence. She lifted her eyes to the doorway, expecting to see Wolverine, or Storm perhaps, surprised to find the young Morlock, Lasher, instead.  
  
"Sorry, Witch. Am intruding?," he asked in his normal, quiet way.  
  
"Not at all, Lasher." She smiled warmly, genuinely glad to see the young mutant up and about. With all the tension in the house over the last couple of months, he had made himself scarce. "And please, call me Wanda."  
  
"Okay…Wanda," he said with a faint smile, the expression giving his features a handsome cast. "And you can call me Jonathon."  
  
Seeing that he still seemed a bit ill at ease, she wondered how it was that they had not gotten to know each other better over their time here together. Perhaps it was time that they finally did so. She smiled and patted a spot on the seat next to her. "Well then, Jonathon. Come over here and have a seat. I was just taking a moment to reflect on my life before I became part of the X-Men."  
  
Rather timidly, he came closer, settling uneasily into the seat next to her. Still, his discomfort could not mask the admiration that shone brightly within his eyes. "You were an Avenger, yes? One of the earths mightiest superheroes?"  
  
She smiled again, having grown unused to the praise the Avengers used to receive regularly when they still existed. "Yes, yes I was."  
  
"Tell me about them?," he asked eagerly, his burning curiosity consuming him utterly.  
  
Ah, to be that young again, Wanda thought wistfully. "Alright, Jonathon. But when I'm done, I want to hear all about being a part of the Morlocks."  
  
He nodded quickly in agreement, and she began speaking, starting with tales of the earliest days, when she had been part of the Brotherhood and a foe of the X-Men. Jonathon listened with rapt attention, and they talked long into the night, forgetting about the world around them as they relived the glories and triumphs of their pasts.  
  
It was a peaceful night, she thought as they continued to talk into the wee hours. Despite the X-Mens occasional differences and arguments, the mansion had been a place of peace and safety for them all. She thanked whatever Gods might be listening for their good fortune, and lamented that it surely couldn't last for very much longer.  
  



	16. TDOAD Chapter 15: A Hero's Life

CHAPTER 15: A HERO'S LIFE  
  
Lasher yawned and stretched, the bright light of the morning streaming in through his bedroom window and waking him. He had stayed up far too late talking with Wanda, he thought, as the impulse to roll back over and bury his face in the pillow hit him. He had always been an early riser, though, and so, struggled to disentangle himself from the bed sheets as he sat up.   
  
He rose and moved to the bathroom, turning on the water for the shower. As he waited for the water to warm, he paused to ponder his reflection in the mirror. Wanda's stories last night had been so wonderful, filled with beautiful, courageous heroes fighting for what they believed in. He stroked one grey cheek thoughtfully, wondering if he could have had a place among those legendary heroes. He was certainly not handsome by any stretch of the imagination; that came along with being a Morlock. The grey pallor of his skin was something he had retained since birth, a testament to his genetic mutation and the factor which had set him apart from his fellow man. Fortunately, he had been born within the Morlock tunnels, and so had never had to face the mutant hating world of the humans. No, when his first experience with hatred had come, it had been in the form of fellow mutants; a band of evil villains called the Marauders. He had been old enough then that his mutant powers of electricity had developed, and had wanted to stay and fight alongside his parents. But they had insisted he flee the tunnels with the other Morlock children…it was the last time he ever saw them.  
  
Years later, he had returned to the tunnels along with many of the other Morlock children, determined to reform their society and escape the reign of the Shadow King. After the first horrible battle between the X-Men and the Shadow King, the Morlock Marrow had returned to the tunnels to lead her people in the absence of Callisto. The first year he spent back in the tunnels had been quiet, uneventful, and frustrating as he tried to learn to control his mutant ability. The new society of Morlocks was not the family it had once been, now it was more like a gathering of people forced to live together in hiding, each staying separate from the other. He was at least fortunate enough that he could turn his power on and off, unlike some of his fellows, but he never found the opportunity to explore its many uses. As a child, he had always dreamed of being a hero, of fighting in the world above for the cause of good like the Avengers and the X-Men. He had always idolized their ideals, glorifying them in his mind until they had become something far beyond mere mortals. He had never met any of them, but their tales were legend, and he knew that the X-Men had walked among the Morlocks many times. Once or twice as a young child, he had even glimpsed one or two of them, but had never spoken to them. When they had returned to the tunnels almost a year and a half ago, asking for the assistance of any Morlock willing to join the fight, he hadn't hesitated. He had been the only one of his people willing to take the chance, to live the dream, and that had suited him just fine.  
  
Marrow hadn't been too pleased with his decision, but in the end was without the power to stop him. His grey skin had ever been like a mark of Cain, but its stone-like texture made it very hard to pierce. It would have been hard for her to kill him from a distance, and with the X-Men on his side, she hardly dared to try. Or perhaps her time as leader of the Morlocks had matured her, he didn't know. He only knew that he had left and never looked back. And he, like Wanda, had never regretted the decision.  
  
He had learned more about his power than he ever thought possible since he had been with the X-Men. They had surmised that his energy tendrils, comprised of electrons, were capable of a number of functions. One tendril was composed of positive energy, the other with negative energy. The potential effects of such a power could be extremely deadly, and the X-Men were taking their careful time in helping him develop uses for his power. Some of the less deadly things he found he was capable of were paralyzing another person by scrambling the electronic impulses controlling their body, scrambling their powers by hitting the central nervous system and temporarily 'frying' their brain, and simply rendering them unconscious through electric shock. He knew he had the potential to easily be able to stop hearts, and possibly restart a stopped one. The ultimate focus of his powers, theoretically, would be to stop the motion of a single atom, causing a massive explosion in a radius around the area. Those more dangerous areas of his powers were the ones that the X-Men seemed to be tiptoeing around, and he frankly couldn't blame them. It scared him to think that he could be capable of so much destruction, and not knowing the potential effects of such actions made him reluctant to try. But that was all right with him, he was happy where he was, and the level he had achieved so far. He had learned a great deal in his last year here, with the X-Men, and they had made him feel as if he were part of the family.   
  
The rising steam about him pulled him from his thoughts, and he adjusted the water to a more comfortable level before stepping into the shower. He didn't really know why he bothered to shower, since his stone-like skin rendered him hairless and it really didn't need to be washed anymore than a rock would. It was a ritual for him, though, and he supposed it somehow helped to make him feel more human. At least his physiology was still humanoid, he thought. He possessed the normal body of any human, male 17 year-old, sans hair. It just so happened that his skin was hard as stone and about the same color. Which made for a very dull social life, he thought, inwardly sighing as he scrubbed the rough texture of his skin. Not too many women would enjoy the sandpaper-like feel of his skin against them. That was something he had accepted years ago, though, and he rarely dwelled on it. Instead, he tried his best to simply take pleasure in the company of others, finding conversation a good remedy for the loneliness that sometimes gripped him.   
  
Like last night…he smiled as he thought of Wanda. She had been so kind to him, almost sisterly. Humming happily to himself as he washed, he hoped that this would be the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Angelica Jones turned sharply as she heard the rap upon the door, her anger flaring again. "Go away, Bobby!," she shouted, not wanting to continue their argument from earlier.  
  
The door opened slightly, and she stomped toward it, enraged. "What the he--"  
  
"If this is a bad time, I can come back," Logan said calmly as he poked his head in. His black eyes were intent upon her, and suddenly she felt like a bug under glass, being scrutinized and examined from a distance.  
  
"Uh..no…Logan…come on in," she stuttered, caught off-guard by his appearance. Whatever he wanted, it couldn't be good. She couldn't remember a single time, in the year and a half that she had lived here, that Logan had ever come into her room. Hesitantly, she took a step backward and sat down upon her bed, looking suddenly much more submissive than the moment before.  
  
It was all Logan could do not to crack a smile. Though he wasn't sure that her fear of him was good thing, considering that they were teammates, but he was extremely amused by it. Kitty and Jubilee hadn't even been fourteen when they had met him yet they had never been afraid of him, never let him intimidate them for a moment. All mirth faded at the thought of Jubilee, though, and his expression grew serious as he took the chair from her desk and sat down.  
  
"So….," he offered, letting her squirm in the following silence for several long seconds before continuing. "Let me cut right to the chase." He pulled a cigar from his pocket and tapped it thoughtfully on the seat of the chair. "You and Drake been having a lot o' problems lately, from the look o' things." It wasn't really a question, but still he looked to her expectantly, waiting for her to answer.  
  
She fidgeted uncomfortably, as if hedging, then finally nodded. There was no point in trying to lie or gloss over the fact. It had been painfully obvious to the entire household over the last several months. "Yes, we have."  
  
"Care to tell me why?," he asked, though they both already knew the answer.  
  
"Because…," she hesitated, not really wanting to discuss this at all, especially not with the grim leader of the team. Besides, he already knew the answer to that question. Why was he forcing her to go through it again?  
  
"Confession's good for the soul, darlin'," he said, as if reading her thoughts. "That's what they always told me, anyway." He shrugged lightly, his tone perfectly in tune with casual gesture. But his eyes…those were eyes that had seen too much, eyes that made it clear they got what they wanted, that would not be denied, and she knew it.  
  
Sighing inwardly, she continued. "Because of what went down with Gambit." It sounded lame, even to her own ears, and she cringed. Saying it out loud, like this, it suddenly sounded so petty.  
  
"Mmm-hm." He grunted non-committally, nodding. "And you don't think he's suffered enough for it already? Poor boy's been kickin' himself ever since it happened. Even Storm has managed to forgive 'im." He tapped the cigar a few more times, playing up the ensuing, tense, silence for all it was worth. "So why don't you tell me what's really botherin' you?"  
  
She stared at him like a deer caught in headlights, completely taken aback by the question. "But…but I already told you…."  
  
"I ain't buyin' it darlin. This ain't about the cajun, it's about you. But, if you wanna lie to yerself, go right ahead. It don't matter to me either way. All that matters to me is that this team is whole and functionin' as a unit. And as long as you and the popsicle are fightin', that ain't gonna happen."  
  
This time she was completely speechless. What could he possibly mean that she was lying to herself? She was so wrapped up in puzzling out his words that she was almost startled when he spoke again.  
  
"You need to bury the hatchet with the boy once'n for all. It don't matter if you don't like 'im, but you gotta work with 'im. Continuing a pointless argument ain't good for the team," he said, rising from the chair and pushing it back under the desk.   
  
"I can work with the team just fine," she said defensively, finding her voice at last.  
  
He stopped in mid-stride toward the door, turning back to look at her with those spooky eyes again. "That boy would die fer you, Angel…..can you say the same?" The question had nothing to do with his former remarks, but still, he felt the need to make her aware of what she was doing. Of the pain she was causing, of the pain she was living in.   
  
"I—I'd do the same for any X-Man," she responded weakly.  
  
He leaned against the doorframe, cigar seemingly forgotten in his hand. "Look, I don't know much about your past, darlin', but I'm bettin' whatever was in it included a whole lotta hurt from someone you loved a lot. I see how you look at Bobby, how you act with him…there's love there of a sort, but more fear than anything. That's why you lash out against 'im so bad, cause your feelin's, his feelin's for you, they scare you silly."  
  
She stared at him liked a frightened, cornered animal, completely defenseless in the face of his truth. Even if she could have responded, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. He was right. About everything. Vance's image, never far from her mind, rose up again before her.  
  
Logan turned and pulled the door closed, pausing for just an instant before shutting it. With one last look back at her, he finished, "We all got crosses to bear, darlin'. But when you let 'em get too heavy, they have a way o' draggin' you straight to the bottom. Yer too good for that, darlin', don't let it happen."  
  
He turned away and shut the door then, but not before he saw the tears in her eyes.  
  



	17. TDOAD Chapter 16: Old Wounds

CHAPTER 16: OLD WOUNDS  
  
Bobby was completely stunned when he answered the knock on his bedroom door to the discover Angelica standing there, tears streaming down her lovely face.  
  
"C—can I come in?," she stuttered, trying to bring her voice under control.  
  
He stood aside so that she could enter, completely dumbfounded. Still, it was not often that Bobby Drake was left without anything to say. "Angel…what is it? What's wrong?" He consciously resisted his natural impulse to take her in his arms and comfort her. He was so used to resisting such urges by now that it almost seemed like second nature. So much so, that he was completely flabbergasted when a moment later she threw herself into his arms, sobbing helplessly.  
  
"Oh..Bobby…," she gasped out. "I'm s- suh—so sorry."  
  
Every alarm went off inside of his head and he tensed without knowing quite why. Whatever it was that had upset her so badly couldn't be anything good, he thought. Fighting against his natural impulse not to touch her, her forced himself to bring his arms up and embrace her, hugging her close. It felt completely unnatural and awkward to him, somehow, though he had fantasized this moment over and over again in his mind many times. But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was that she was upset and she needed comforting. "Shhh…," he soothed, brushing the awkward feelings aside. "Just take it slowly. Start from the beginning and take your time."  
  
Her sobs lessened a bit and she drew back from him, moving to take a seat on his bed. Wiping half-heartedly at her tears, she glanced up at him to gauge his reaction, thinking she must seem like a fool right now to him.  
  
Bobby watched her for a moment, then moved to sit next to her. When she glanced up and met his eyes, his breath caught in his throat. God she's beautiful, he thought. Even tear-streaked and sobbing, she still had a natural beauty that shone through, made almost childish by her timid glance at him. Realizing that he was staring, he quickly sat down next to her and waited, knowing she would tell him when she was ready.  
  
"This isn't easy for me," she began brokenly, as if he couldn't tell by the sheer emotion in her voice. She wouldn't meet his eyes yet, but he kept his gaze fixed on her nonetheless. "I don't even know where to begin, really…"  
  
"The beginning?" he prompted gently, just the hint of a smile touching his lips.  
  
She nodded, then took a deep breath to steady herself. "When I was with the New Warriors, ages ago, it seems, there was someone else on the team who became very dear to me. His name was Vance Astro. We fell in love and planned to marry someday, when the time was right. It never was though. One crisis and hardship after another marched relentlessly into our lives and there never seemed to be time. We weren't in a hurry, anyway…I mean, we thought we had forever, right?" she chuckled bitterly at the last statement. "We went through so much together…we were closer than I ever thought two people could be. When we finally joined the Avengers together, it seemed like everything was finally falling into place, like our dreams were starting to come true. And then...the Shadow King came."   
  
She broke off then, seeming to struggle with herself for a long moment before continuing. "He…he died in the ensuing battle when the Avengers went up against the Shadow King." Tears began to fill her eyes again as she spoke. "At first, I didn't believe it. I mean, we had nearly lost each other so many times before…it just seemed impossible that he was gone, just like that." She snapped her fingers to illustrate how quickly it had happened. "I never loved anyone like I loved Vance," she whispered almost reverently. "He was the sweetest, kindest man I had ever known. I really thought we'd be at each others side forever. When I lost him…it was like my whole world ended. I shut off my emotions, I locked myself up tight inside my mind and threw away the key. I never wanted to hurt like that again."  
  
Bobby listened with rapt attention, his eyes softening with sadness as she told her tale, and this time he could not help himself as he reached out and touched her shoulder. Gratefully, she reached up and took his hand, squeezing it tightly, as if it somehow gave her the strength to continue.  
  
"Bobby…I know I…I know I haven't been fair to you all this time. You've never done anything but care about me, help me and try to protect me. When I look back at how I've acted…" she shook her head. "I just can't believe how horrible I've been to you. And there is no excuse for it. None."  
  
Now Bobby shook his head, leaning toward her and meeting her eyes. "No, Angel. I've always been the one who's pushed you too hard, tried make something happen that wasn't there. You can't blame yourself."  
  
"You're wrong, Bobby. You've been so kind, so loving, so wonderful to me, and all I've done is lashed out at you and hurt your feelings, over and over again for it. In fact, every time you've reached out to me, I've thrown it back in your face. I can't even believe you could still care about me after the way I've treated you. I don't deserve it."  
  
"Angel--," he started to protest, and she laid a finger upon his lips to quiet him. It was such a simple gesture, and yet so intimate. Bobby felt his lips tingle where she touched them, the feeling like a warm buzz of electricity that spread through his whole body. Even if she had wanted him to continue now, he couldn't have remembered what he was going to say.  
  
"You didn't deserve to be treated that way, period. I was so caught up in myself over what happened to Vance that I shut myself away from the world. I wouldn't let you in because I didn't want to care, I didn't want to take a chance on getting hurt like that again. So I hid from any and all emotion. When I lashed out at you, it was because you were threatening what little safety I felt I had. The world is such a terrible place now…I thought I was being strong, not letting anything get to me. I thought I was adapting to survive in this harsh new world. But all I was really doing was running away. I see that now."  
  
He watched in silence as she spoke, eyes never leaving her face. So much sadness, he thought as he looked at her. No one should ever be that sad. He wished he could just wipe away all of her pain, take it into himself if he had to, anything if only she wouldn't look so lonely and afraid.  
  
She looked up and met his gaze then, blue eyes shimmering with tears. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I know it doesn't make everything better, or make everything I've done go away, but it's all I can say for now."  
  
"You're already forgiven," he said softly, barely aware that the words has passed his lips as he lost himself in her eyes.  
  
She smiled just slightly then, the sadness in her eyes receding a bit. "I know…I knew you would say that Bobby, because you're too sweet not to. But it will be a while before I forgive myself for it."  
  
He nodded, understanding that feeling all too well. Forgiveness was always easy when you were giving it to someone else, but forgiving yourself seemed to be more like an experiment in prolonged, self-inflicted misery. Still, he wished she didn't have to go through that, though he knew she would have to.  
  
"I didn't just say it because it was the right thing to say, Angel. I said it because I…," he trailed off, turning his eyes away from her, the sudden ache in his chest silencing him.   
  
She reached out tenderly, slipping a finger beneath his chin and guiding his eyes back to hers. "Because you love me," she finished.  
  
He nodded, too embarrassed of his admission to speak. After all, he was being silly, saying such a thing. He knew she didn't love him like he loved her, he should know better than to even indulge in this feeling, much less burden her with it.  
  
She leaned forward and grabbed him in a sudden, emotional hug, turning her face toward his ear and whispering, "Well guess what, Drake? I think I love you too."  
  
His whole body felt as if it ground to a complete halt. For a moment, his heart didn't beat, his lungs did not draw or exhale air, his brain ceased to think. The jolt of shock that rocked his body was like being hit with a sledgehammer to the midsection.   
  
"No.." she whispered. "Don't say anything. You don't need to. I know this is a sudden change for you…even for me, to finally admit how I really feel. It's too new right now to act upon, we both need time to think and sort things out."  
  
He suddenly remembered to breathe again as she finished speaking, and finally, he acted on impulse without a second thought. He pulled her tight against him, hugging her so hard that she thought she might break. Angelica smiled and returned the emotion of the embrace, tears of joy mixed with sadness slipping down her cheeks. They held each other in silence for a space of time that seemed to stretch out into eternity, both taking comfort and happiness in the feelings shared between them. "I…I think I should go now…I've traumatized you enough for one night," she joked weakly, drawing back at last.  
  
"You haven't," he said, smiling. "In fact, I'd love to be traumatized a whole lot more."  
  
She cracked a smile then, shaking her head at his irrepressible spirit. "I hope you mean that, Bobby, cause it's bound to be a rough road."  
  
"I do," he replied sincerely. "Any dream worth having is worth fighting for, right?"  
  
"That's what the X-Men say," she agreed, nodding.  
  
"Well, then we must be in the right place, huh?"  
  
She smiled and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Yes, I do believe we are."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"Any word yet, chere?," Gambit asked as he stepped into Rogues room and eased into a chair, careful not to move to quickly and strain his already aching muscles.  
  
"Nope, not a word," she responded, barely turning to look at him. She stood near the window of her room, one hand placed protectively over her stomach which was just starting to swell with the fourth month of pregnancy. "Maybe they're gonna wait til after the children are born."  
  
He could hear the uncertainty in her voice, touched with hope and a bit of fear. They had both hoped whatever mission the Brotherhood was planning against the X-Men would be launched after the children were born, but they knew it was unlikely. With Rogue's invulnerability, the children would probably be safe inside her, but still…neither of them wanted to risk it.  
  
"Dey sure are takin' dere sweet time about setting dis up, whatever it is. De way Psylocke was talkin'. I thought it would happen right away."  
  
"The wait is killin' me, Remy," she sighed and walked over to him, sinking down in his lap.  
  
"It's all we can do for now, chere". He replied, leaning up and kissing her on the forehead. Then he slipped one hand onto her belly, as if feeling for the presence of the two lives that lived within. "How are little Irinee' and Jean-Luc today?," he asked, using the names they had both selected from their parent figures. Irinee' Raven and Jean-Luc Etienne LeBeau. He loved the sound of their names and could hardly wait to see them born and grow.  
  
"They're bein' quiet as usual." She smiled as she said it, sparing a fond glance to her stomach. "Although they've killed any urge for spicy food I might have once had." She grimaced then, and made a face, and he chuckled and pulled her close to him.  
  
"Well, dat'll pass soon as dey're born, chere. And den we'll get you all de spicy food you can handle."  
  
She smiled and hugged him back, trying desperately to push aside her fears for their children.  
  



	18. TDOAD Chapter 17: A Time Of Last Things

CHAPTER 17: A TIME OF LAST THINGS  
  
"How goes the battle, darlin'?," Wolverine asked as he stepped up behind Storm and slipped his arms around her waist.   
  
"It goes, Logan," she said with a faint smile as she turned toward him. "How are you today, my love?"  
  
"I think a better question is how are YOU, darlin'?," he said, watching her wan expression with concern.  
  
"I was just…thinking. About our lives here. We have been so very fortunate so far. Protected from our enemies by this psionic shield, living our lives out so complacently, so normally as compared to the world outside. It almost does not seem fair somehow."  
  
"I happen to think we've earned it, 'ro. Bout time the X-Men took a little time for themselves."  
  
She nodded thoughtfully. Still seeming troubled. "But is that really what we are doing, Logan, or are we just hiding from the world?"  
  
"You're itchin' for a fight aren't ya darlin'?," he asked with a roguish smile.  
  
"I…well, perhaps," she said, smiling slightly again. "We have been inactive for so long now, so busy training and laying strategy that we seem to have forgotten that there are battles out there waiting to be fought."  
  
"Darlin', we can't save the world this world by ourselves this time. Even if we manage ta beat the Shadow King eventually, there're a lotta pieces that need pickin' up and puttin' back together, a lotta groups of the Brotherhood left to be fought."  
  
"I know…I just feel so helpless, locked behind these walls."  
  
"Usually I'd be the one spoilin' fer a fight, but the battle's sure to find us sooner or later, darlin', somehow or nother. I say we should just enjoy the time we got left."  
  
"Sometimes I wonder what I would do without you, Logan," she said fondly, reaching down to stroke his cheek. This man knew her so well, touched her to the depths of her soul. He was her lover, her soulmate, her best friend, confidant and counsel. Between the two of them, they formed an almost prefect union, one that she still marveled at. She truly didn't know how she could exist without him at her side. "I fear that when the battle does find us that we may lose each other…," her face saddening as she spoke.  
  
"The thought o' losin' you tears me up inside, darlin. I don't even like ta hear ya talk that way. But it's a fact o' life, and that's why we should make the most of the time we do have together', he said softly, leaning in to kiss her.  
  
"You are right, as ever, my love," she replied, kissing him back, holding him close for a long, lingering moment before drawing back. She should not be dwelling on sadness today, not while they still had time together. "And did you have a plan for how best to spend the time today?," she asked with a wicked grin.  
  
"I think I just might, at that," he grinned back and covered her lips with his own again, letting the passion carry them where it would.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"So where're Wolvie and Storm today?," Dazzler asked as she carried the picnic basket up the hill.  
  
"Three guesses, Alison," Bobby replied with a chuckle, earning him a playful smack from Angelica.  
  
They all laughed then, and Alison paused to fully enjoy the moment. It was such a beautiful day, one of the last the fall would offer, she was sure. She had been so motivated by the warm weather that she had invited the whole team out for a picnic, ala her culinary skills. Everyone had turned out, too; Wanda, Lasher, Bobby, Angelica, Kitty and Colossus. Everyone except Storm and Wolverine, that was. But she was in too good of a mood to care today. If they were having fun, wherever they were, that was all that mattered. She reached the top of the hill and waited for Lasher to catch up and spread out the blanket for their meal.  
  
As they all settled in, Bobby stopped Alison as she reached for the food. "I'd just like to give a prayer, to say thanks."  
  
Everyone looked at him strangely, but offered no protest. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, speaking in a reverent tone. "Dear God…we have gathered here today to give thanks for this food we are about to partake of…"  
  
Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes as he began, but Kitty shot Colossus a furtive, questioning glance as he continued.  
"…. please watch over us with care…"  
  
Now everyone was glancing at each other in surprise, and Alison in particular seemed awed by Bobby's words.  
  
"… and do not let us die from Alisons cooking…..Amen."  
  
Everyone sat in startled silence for a moment, then laughter erupted as what he had said sank in. Alison leapt from her spot and blasted him with a playful light blast. "Gee, thanks a lot Drake," she said dryly, though she, too, was smiling.   
  
"Oh, I see how you wanna play," Bobby shot back, beginning to ice up. "Well, so much for lunch," he added with a wicked smile, pointing one icy finger at the basket of food.  
  
This time they didn't hesitate as all six of his teammates leaped on him at once.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Alison looked around at the mess they had made and shook her head. They had ended up wearing more of the food than they had actually eaten, but that was okay, they'd all had a great time covering Bobby head to toe in various types of food. The gathering had broken up shortly after the food fight ended, Colossus and Kitty slipping off into the woods and Bobby and Angelica heading back to the mansion for showers. Wanda and Lasher had gone down to the gardens to continue their conversation, so that left Alison all by herself, which was just fine with her. She had one more visit to make before the day was out.  
  
Rising and brushing off her legs, she headed back toward the mansion.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Piotr and Kitty sat by the lakes edge, watching the sun as it dipped low toward the horizon.  
  
"What a beautiful day," Kitty sighed as she snuggled closer to Piotr.  
  
"It almost makes one forget about everything else, doesn't it?," Piotr asked, sharing in her wonder.  
  
"Almost," she agreed, then sighed, this time much less happily. "I'm going to end up having to kill him, you know."  
  
Piotr was so taken aback by the comment that it took a moment for him to puzzle out who she meant. "Nightcrawler? Katya…I know he hurt you badly, but you were made for gentler things."  
  
"I know…but if I don't do it, one of the other X-Men will…and as close as he and I were, despite what happened between us, I feel I have more right than anyone. I was closer to him than anyone else…"  
  
"And that makes you the perfect choice for his executioner?," he asked, the disapproval obvious in his voice. "If and when that time comes, it will not be up to you to decide. The battle will play itself out in its own way."  
  
She could see that he didn't understand, that he probably never would. Despite the fact that he himself had killed before, he, the sensitive artist with the heart of a poet, he could not imagine her doing the same. She didn't really know why she was dwelling on it today, anyway. This day seemed to be made for happier things. "I suppose," she said, her voice neutral. "I don't even know why I'm letting it bug me today, really. We should just be enjoying the day."  
  
"I agree," he said, smiling again. "What do you say to a swim, Katya?"  
  
"Nah…let's just snuggle up and be lazy for a change," she said, smiling.  
  
"Alright then," he smiled back and pulled her back into the grass with him. Side by side, they watched the sun set as they spoke of happier times.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"Okay, Angel, your turn," Bobby said, smiling as he emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist.  
  
"Oh, I think it can wait," she replied smiling back from her seat on his bed.  
  
"You sure?," he asked, eyeing her.   
  
"I'm sure," she nodded as she watched him walk over to his bureau.   
  
"Okay..well, um…I need to get dressed," he said awkwardly as he pulled open the dresser drawer.  
  
"In a minute," she interjected, motioning him over to her.  
  
Still feeling a bit awkward, he walked over to her and stood.  
  
"Bobby, we've been taking this in baby steps for the last month or more, and don't get me wrong, it's been very nice. All the talking, all the quiet walks, the snuggling. But I think it's time we took another step forward," she said, her eyes sparkling with just a bit of mischief as she looked at him.  
  
He gulped. "Um…okay…," he tried desperately to figure out what she meant. He didn't want to say the wrong thing, or misinterpret what she had said. What exactly DID she mean? "If you're sure," he added, stalling for time.  
  
She smiled then and yanked the towel from his waist, pulling him down onto the bed with her. "I've never been more sure."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Wanda and Lasher sat in the gardens, never with a shortage of things to talk about. Wanda was grateful for his companionship, what with all the couples that lived in the mansion. She didn't feel anything more toward him than sisterly love, but that was enough for her, and for him, apparently. In this short time, they'd come to be the best of friends and shared more with each other than she ever had with anyone, except for Vision, perhaps. She watched the sun dip below the horizon and smiled, listening to him speak.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"Hey there, lover," Dazzler said softly as she kneeled before Longshot's grave. Gently, she brushed her hand across the gravestone, wiping the dust from his name. "We had a really great day today…the kind of day you would have loved. Beautiful weather, the best of friends, and nothing but fun. I could almost imagine you there." She smiled and closed her eyes, the vision of his face just behind them. "Things haven't been easy these last two and half years, and the worst is yet to come I'm sure, but we're doing pretty darn good. I just wish you were here to share it all with me…I hope, wherever you are, that you're as happy as I was today, lover."  
  
She laid the rose at the base of the headstone and sat in silence for a long moment, remembering their times together. "I miss you, Longshot," she whispered and touched the gravestone one last time before rising and walking back to the mansion.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Gambit hurried to Rogues room as fast as he could without running. When she'd contacted him over his com, she'd sounded extremely upset. He keyed in the security code to her door quickly and was inside before it had even opened all the way.   
  
"What is it, chere?," he asked, panting only slightly for breath.  
  
She turned to look at him and her eyes were haunted. "Word just came down from Psylocke…we leave for the Morlock tunnels tonight."  
  
Gambit felt his heart stutter in his chest as the blood drained from his face, staring at her in shocked silence.  
  



	19. TDOAD Chapter 18: The Final Countdown

CHAPTER 18: THE FINAL COUNTDOWN  
  
Rogue stood before her faction of the Brotherhood, hands on her hips as she surveyed them all. Sabretooth, Havok, Nightcrawler, Gambit, Psylocke, and their newest additions, Juggernaut and Spiral. All faces were intent upon her as she continued speaking.   
  
"Psylocke has imprinted each of your minds with the schematics for the Morlock tunnels; paths to be taken, security devices to avoid and access commands to the mansion, when we get that far. Y'all know your roles….any questions?"  
  
Havok spoke up, not even bothering to raise his hand. "What exactly are our orders concerning the Morlocks?"  
  
"There were none specifically, so ah'm going to order that we fight them only if they put up resistance. If they run away, let them be."  
  
"That sounds a bit merciful," he responded, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he pushed his point.  
  
Rogue's eyes narrowed just slightly with annoyance. "Call it what ya will. Ah say we're saving valuable resources. We don't want to be worn out when we finally do reach the mansion."  
  
Psylocke smiled coyly and cut Havok a sidelong glance. "Well, that certainly seems to cover everything, doesn't it?"  
  
"You have a question, Psylocke?," Rogue asked sharply.  
  
"Several, actually," the Asian woman replied smoothly. "But we really haven't time for them now."  
  
Rogue nodded tersely. "We can settle them later, then," she said, her words carrying an ominous tone. Psylocke shrugged lightly and returned her burning gaze seemingly unfazed.   
  
"Alright then, move out y'all. Get yourselves together and say your goodbyes if necessary. We meet at Gateway's plateau in exactly one hour." Without a further word, she turned her back on the group and stalked from the room.  
  
With eager smiles, the remaining members of the Brotherhood set out to make their individual preparations.  
  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
  
Alex Summers was still smiling as he struggled into his uniform, thoughts filled with visions of the upcoming battle. This was his big chance in more ways than one, both to prove himself and perhaps gain control over the Brotherhood. Rogue couldn't be in top form, being five months pregnant and starting to bulge prominently, not to mention that she was likely to be looking out for the two lives she carried inside her.   
  
He held no particular love or hatred for Rogue, save that she had a position that he coveted. He supposed she had even done him a favor when she had killed his brother Scott. Alex would have liked to have done it himself, but either way, the job was done. He often wondered what his brothers last thoughts were as he was pummeled to death with his own optic blasts. The thought almost always made him smile. His brother had been more like him at the end than ever, and Havok had almost begun to admire the ruthlessness with which Cyclops had systematically begun killing off the X-Mens enemies. Losing Jean and the Professor had truly unhinged him. Still, he hadn't thought anyone would have the balls to put Cyclops back in his place, or remove him altogether, despite the loose cannon he'd become. He doubted if anyone ever would have if not for his brothers brutal slaying of Mystique right before Rogue's eyes. And even then…if Rogue had not been possessed of Mystiques memories and temperament at the time….he'd often wondered how much that had to do with it. Probably quite a bit. Despite Rogue's claims of being a killer early in her career, he couldn't imagine her murdering someone, even in hot-blood, and especially not so ruthlessly. Killing Scott with his own power…no, that sounded like Mystique's style far more than Rogue's. Which was exactly why he felt Rogue unfit to lead the Brotherhood; she wasn't ruthless, and she definitely wasn't a killer.  
  
And now, with the children at stake, she was bound to be distracted from her job…wouldn't it be a shame if something unfortunate happened to her during the battle?, he thought, chuckling darkly. She was almost bound to slip up, and Alex was going to be there when she did.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"Chere?," Gambit asked quietly as he slipped into their room. It was so dark he almost thought she might not be there. He was turning away to go look for her elsewhere when she spoke.  
  
"Ah'm here, Remy. Over by the window."  
  
He already knew what was troubling her without having to ask. After all, it was the same fear that plagued him, as well. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness and moved up beside her, putting an arm around her waist without speaking.  
  
"You know we probably won't live through this fight?," she asked almost nonchalantly. He paused to consider her words, her tone, and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn't nonchalance in her voice- she was simply being matter-of-fact.  
  
"Chere, we gonna be fine--," he began, trying to sound more cheerful than he really felt. But she cut him off before he could even get going.  
  
"No, Remy. No more lies, no more pretendin'. You know as well as ah do that this might be the last time we can be together like this…that our children might never be born."  
  
"I know, chere," he said quietly after a moment. "Old habits die hard, I guess," he added, trying to smile.  
  
"Whichever side we're on, this battle's bound to turn ugly. If we don't make it out…," she trailed off. He couldn't see her face very well in the darkness, but all the same he knew the tears were there.  
  
"Then at least we die fightin', chere, together, you an' me, side by side." He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "I can't think of a better way to go."  
  
She shuddered with a repressed sob, turning and grabbing him tight in her arms. "Ah love you Remy. Ah always have, and ah always will, in this life and the next."  
  
"An' I love you, Sabine," he said softly, stroking her hair as he leaned in to kiss her. "Now an' forever."  
  
They held each other in the darkness, completely silent as they cherished the moment for all it was worth.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
No expression was evident on Gateway's face as his bull-roarer sung through the air. He did not even blink as eight figures filed past him and into the portal he had created, and they in return did not pay any attention to him. That was the way it had always been, the way it was meant to be. All except one. He remembered her, though it did not show in his face; she was the one who had always been so kind to him, bringing him gifts and food. And though he did not return the last, backward glance she gave him, he saw it nonetheless. The portal swirled shut, returning to the nothingness from whence it came, and the plateau was silent once again. Thus, there was no one to bear witness to the single tear that streaked its way down his dark, leathery cheek.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Leech ran through the tunnels as fast as his little green legs would carry him, ignoring the heavy pain in his side and his gasping pants for breath. His own pain didn't matter, his own life didn't matter…all that mattered was that the Mistress knew what was coming. He tried to shut out the visions of years before, of Morlocks dying in scores around him. If he thought about that, he was done for. His fear would paralyze him, and then they would be upon him. He couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let his people die a second time. He could help this time. He WOULD help this time. And he was almost there.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"Security breach!," Kitty yelled as she phased up into the living room of the mansion from the monitoring systems below.  
  
Everyone sprang into action at once, alarms suddenly blaring through the house like an angry, awakened banshee.   
  
"Where and how many?," Storm asked simply as she watched the other X-Men arrive from every doorway.  
  
"The Morlock tunnels," Kitty replied, her face as pale as if she had seen a ghost. "And only two."  
  
To her credit, Storm kept her façade of control even as her heart seemed to thunder within her breast. Bright Lady, not again, she pleaded silently. Aloud she began shouting orders. "Alright, Kitty get back to the control room and monitor for any further security breaches as well as additional activity. Colossus, you go with her. Everyone else come with me." Without waiting for response, she took to the air, heading for the bowels of the mansion and the entrance to the Morlock tunnels.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue was very glad she was the only team member who could fly, it gave her the advantage of scouting far ahead of the team. As she sped through the dank tunnels, she was relieved to find that they seemed empty, completely devoid of any life. It was reassuring and yet eerie at the same time. Had they gotten to ground before their arrival somehow? Or were they lying in wait to ambush the intruders into their home?  
  
Further back, and much less happily, the rest of the group made their way down the narrow ledges that bordered the sewers refuse. They weren't far enough in yet to have reached the "Alley" and better footing on solid ground, but with an enchantment from Spiral, they found negotiating the steep, skinny ledges much easier than expected. They were making good time.  
  
"Just like old times, eh LeBeau?," growled Sabretooth as he crawled along the ledge on all fours, resembling nothing so much as a cat.  
  
Gambit stiffened at the remark, remembering the last time he had been down here with Sabretooth…a lifetime ago…yet it was almost like yesterday in his mind. And this time, he had not only inadvertently led them here, but he was on their side. Not for long, he reminded himself, not for long.  
  
Setting his jaw in grim determination, Remy LeBeau pushed onward through the murky darkness.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"Stand back, everyone," Storm commanded as she landed before the massive door that led to the Morlock tunnels. "Spread out and be ready to attack on my command." Trying vainly to keep her hands from shaking, she keyed in the security code to unlock the final barrier between the mansion and the underground. They were lucky that they hadn't actually made it into the mansion yet, considering that their intruders seemed to know the other security codes to bypass their defenses. At least this way they might still have the advantage of surprise. She finished keying in the sequence and stepped back as the door slid open.  
  
For a moment, nothing happened. Each X-Man sat on edge, just barely holding their powers in check as they waited tensely for their intruders to reveal themselves. They were rewarded an instant before the strain threatened to break their control as a green head poked its way around the edge of the massive door.  
  
"Leech," Storm sighed with obvious relief. He looked excited, but not afraid. At least that meant that the Morlocks were still safe. For the moment.  
  
"Lady Storm," he said, trying to keep his voice respectful despite his obvious agitation. "They come."  
  
"Who, Leech?," she asked, the fear returning as quickly as it had receded. Surely not the Marauders…  
  
He frowned, scrunching up his little face in concentration. "The old-friends….the one who steals life, the man with glowing cards…and the woman who speaks with mind. And others…"  
  
"The Brotherhood," Bobby spoke up, Leech's excitement beginning to catch him. "Woo-hoo! Finally! A real fight!"  
  
Storm cut him a scathing glance that could have killed him where he stood, and he visibly gulped as he settled down. "How many, Leech?," she asked patiently. She knew they had a little time, anyway, or Leech would be much more hurried.  
  
He scrunched up his face again as he thought, then held up eight fingers.  
  
Storm nodded and touched the com-badge at her wrist. "Kitty, Piotr, we need you down here in the tunnels. The Brotherhood has arrived at last."  
  
"On our way," Kitty responded immediately, cutting off the transmission.  
  
"Leech, will you be staying to help us fight?," Storm asked gently. They would need all the help they could get.  
  
He nodded firmly. "Yes. Leech fight. Leech and the Mistress."  
  
"The Mistress..?," Storm echoed, seemingly puzzled for a moment.  
  
"Oh please tell me you haven't forgotten me soon, wind-rider," came a gravelly voice from just beyond the darkness off the doorway.  
  
"Marrow," Storm breathed.  
  
"In the flesh," she responded, stepping out into the light. "Such as it is." She chuckled darkly and gestured the various bones that protruded from her body at awkward and hideous angles. "Oh no, don't go all soft on me, now. I can't stand this reunion stuff," she continued in her ever-mocking tone, completely at ease.  
  
Lasher bristled at her disrespect, but took his cue from Storm and maintained his calm. Wolverine moved to Storms side as the newer X-Men exchanged puzzled looks, but no one spoke.  
  
"The Morlocks are safe?," Storm finally asked, regaining a bit of her composure.  
  
"Snug as bugs," Marrow replied confidently. "Leech did his job well, didn't you little one?" She paused to offer the younger Morlock a slight smile, and he gazed at her adoringly in return. "Ever since the Massacre, we set up outposts, places to keep watch from, in case anyone should ever come calling again. They're being sloppy…," she added, cutting Storm an almost coy glance. "They should have had the witch or the elf teleport them right to your door."  
  
"They could not." Storm was shaking her head, trying to put it all together. "No one except the Morlocks know the tunnels well enough to do that. You said that Gambit was with them?," she asked, looking to Leech again, her expression almost pleading as she hoped that it wasn't true. But it was Marrow who answered this time.   
  
"The cajun traitor, you mean? Yes, he is."  
  
"That must be how they knew…Goddess…they will be able to walk right into the mansion, bypassing the psionic barrier above completely!"  
  
"I knew we shouldn't have trusted that snake," Bobby growled, doing a fair impression of Wolverine.  
  
"We have not the time for regrets now," Storm interjected sharply, trying to recover from her own shock and sense of betrayal. Pushing down the emotions which threatened her control, she forced herself to think calmly, rationally. "We must not fight within the tunnels, to do so would endanger the Morlocks safety and destroy their home. Let them come to us. Perhaps if we can get outside…"  
  
"Couldn't hurt to try, darlin'. Maybe if we're lucky, we can get'em close enough to the psionic barrier that it'll take some of the fight out o' them."  
  
Storm turned to Marrow again. "Are you with us, Sarah?," she asked, not bothering to keep her tone regal this time. The threat to the Morlocks was as real as it was to the X-Men. Marrow had just as much of a stake in this they did, despite her abrasive attitude.  
  
"For now," Marrow answered with a sly smile. "but tomorrow…?" Her smile grew, though it held no warmth or humor, and she shrugged slightly.  
  
"Good enough...for now," Storm replied, turning away. "Alright everyone, we take the fight to the surface and the mansion grounds. Marrow, how long?," she asked, not bothering to look at the unsightly Morlock.  
  
"About twenty minutes, if they're quick about it."  
  
"Long enough," Storm asserted as she turned toward Firestar. "Angelica, use your microwave powers to heat the door to the melting point, then Alison, I want you to make sure it is fused shut with your laser blast, and finally, Robert, I want you to cool the door enough to make it harden into place."  
  
"That's not gonna stop them, Storm," Bobby said, even as he moved toward the door with Firestar and Dazzler.  
  
"No, but at least we will know they have arrived when we hear the blast," she replied. "And they will know that we know they are here. That should catch them off-guard. We want to keep them as off-balance as possible."  
  
Bobby nodded. "You got it, boss."  
  
She tapped her com-badge again. "Kitty, Piotr, change of plans. We are taking this fight to the mansion grounds. Meet us there." She snapped off the connection without waiting for a response and looked at the remaining mutants.   
  
"Everything Logan and I have taught you has been in preparation for this day. We can only hope that we have done you justice and that it has been enough. Whatever may happen today, live or die, family or lovers, we are the X-Men, and we fight until the end." She let her eyes fall on each one of them in turn as she spoke. "I could not ask for better friends to lay my life down beside. May the Bright Lady watch over us all this day."  
  
Marrow applauded mockingly, earning her glares from several of the other team members, but Storm ignored her, turning on her heel and walking from the room calmly.   
  
After a moment, the rest of them, save Firestar, Dazzler and Iceman, followed behind her.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
At the top of the world, the dark presence shifted, stirring as it sensed events coming together. With a terrible smile, the man who had once been Magneto mentally called upon his servant on the other side of the globe. A moment later he stepped through a roaring portal and emerged within the mildewed tunnels beneath New York.  
  



	20. TDOAD Chapter 19: Battlezone

CHAPTER 19: BATTLEZONE  
  
The headaches began as soon as Havok blasted his way through the fused door, a mild, annoying pain that seemed to stem from the center of the brain. It only worsened as they cautiously made their way through the mansion, alert for any sign of the X-Men, from mildly annoying to white hot knives that seemed to stab into their eyes. All of them felt it, save Sabretooth, Juggernaut and Spiral, who were here of their own free will and having never been touched by the Shadow King. Psylocke swore a string of curses and tried to ignore as best she could. As bad as it was for them, they knew it was far, far worse for her, being a telepath. Her mood did not improve when they discovered the X-Men were nowhere to be found and they deduced that they must have made for the psionic barrier outside. Gritting her teeth, she strode defiantly toward the mansion grounds, pushing the pain aside with all the ninja training she had received. The pain abated…a little.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Rogue was the first one to burst through the mansion door, and the X-Men saw her easily from their slightly higher ground not too far away. Even easier to see, and perhaps far more disheartening, came the huge form of the Juggernaut, quickly followed by the rest of the Brotherhood. Storm shouted her final commands to the team to spread out, having time to see Logan heading straight for Sabretooth, and then the fury of the battle was upon them.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
"Been waiting a long time for this, runt," Sabretooth growled as he lunged at Logan again, adamantium tipped claws only grazing Logan's side rather than disembowling him as intended.  
  
Logan's own claws were bloody, and Sabretooth bled from a great number of minor wounds, but neither could seem to get a good hit on the other. As elusive as ghosts, they danced a dance of wild, feral beauty, as intoxicating as it was deadly. Logan did not pause for breath as he returned Sabretooth's blow, catching him across the face with an unexpected spin. Whatever Creed had been about to say was forgotten as he lost half of his face to Wolverine's claws.  
  
Completely enraged, Sabretooth roared his defiance at Logan, the already severed muscles of his jaw giving way on the left side of his face, leaving his jaw bone hanging at an awkward angle. But Creed was an animal, perhaps even more so than Logan, and the wound did little to slow his pace as he closed in on his prey.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
Gambit was completely helpless as Storm lifted him from the ground with a whirling, angry wind, sending him spiraling up toward her flying form. "So this is how you repay my trust, Remy? By leading these butchers into our home to slaughter us?" Her face was twisted with rage, and the sky around her echoed her mood, booming cracks of thunder and lightning ripping across the rapidly darkening clouds.  
  
Gambit knew he had to talk fast, or he wasn't going to get another chance. "St—Ororo…listen to me petite. Me an' Rogue, we here to help you."  
  
"Lies!," she cried, the thunder echoing loudly on the heels of the word. "Do not seek to deceive me, Remy, I know you brought them here, they could not have gotten through the tunnels any other way."  
  
"Den why ain't I attackin' you, petite? I could…even from this awkward angle. You trusted me once, chere, trust me now."  
  
Her pupiless, white eyes narrowed as she stared at him with hard suspicion. "On our friendship, for our friendship, for everything we have been and might have been to each other, you swear this is so?"  
  
"I swear, petite. Soon as de big guy shows up, you'll see for yourself wh—," he broke off, eyes fixed somewhere on the battle below. "Petite," he whispered, his face growing pale as he pointed.  
Storm spun, looking to the spot where Gambit had pointed, and felt her heart lurch within her chest at the sight that greeted her. Logan lay upon the ground, surrounded by blood, too much blood, she thought, and Sabretooth stood above him, bloody claws ready to finish the fight.  
  
She did not even think as she called the lightning to her fingertips and sent it hurtling into Victor Creed with every ounce of rage in her body. The force sent him sprawling into the ground face first, skin cracked, blistered and bleeding. She flew closer toward the ground, gathering the lightning to her again, ready to strike the next blow if necessary. Unfortunately, she forgot about Gambit.  
  
He didn't even scream as he began to fall, plummeting through the air with gaining speed. Looks like dis is de end, LeBeau, he thought to himself as the ground rushed up to meet him. And then, suddenly, miraculously, he stopped falling. It took him a moment to realize that he was safe in the arms of his beloved and flying back toward the ground at a much slower speed.  
  
Storm didn't even notice as Sabretooth rose from the ground, wiping a trail of thick blood from beneath his nose. "Not bad for a frail," he growled, "but you don't play fair. So…since you wanna stay all safe up there in the air, I think I'll just take care of yer lover-boy here." He spun quicker than a cat, leaping for Logan with his claws extended, but Storm was faster.  
  
The lightning that poured into his body was unlike any experience he had ever experienced, he could feel his blood boiling, the skin blistering and blackening, peeling back from the muscles that twitched and convulsed uncontrollably. He fell to the ground again like a rag-doll, thinking that even in all his years of electro-shock therapy, he had never felt the primal rage of electricity in all its unbridled fury. He pushed himself up from the ground again defiantly, what was left of his face twisting into something like a smile. "That's okay, frail. We can play this all day long. Eventually, yer gonna be too slow, and lover-boy here is gonna buy it."  
  
"You are wrong, Victor Creed," Storm proclaimed, the lightning crackling about her form, bathing her in a golden glow and encasing her in a nimbus of light. In that moment, she resembled nothing less than the goddess she had once been worshipped as, and even Victor Creed had to stop and admire such beauty. For a split second.  
  
"'Zat so, frail? You mean you don't heed pleas of mercy anymore, or stick to that precious code the old man taught you?" He knew she would never kill him, she just didn't have the heart of a warrior. Too dependent on her morals and standards to just cut loose and go with her instincts.  
  
"You would never beg for mercy," she said, unleashing another brief blast of electricity and throwing him to the ground. She floated down closer, almost within his reach, had he been able to rise at that moment. "And even if you did, that time is past. Too many mutants- too many people- have died at your hands, at your masters. No, the time for mercy is done. You and your masters reign ends here. Now. Today." The lightning poured from her like a living thing, burning his flesh from his bone in great boiling strips. He screamed, an animal scream of fury and pain, but even that was lost to the howling wind that twisted and screamed its own primal song about them. She let the power flow through her relentlessly, until his form was little more than adamantium skeleton and a puddle of ooze. And still she did not relent. Glorying in the full fury of the storm that was her namesake, she did not even feel strained as the electricity coursed through her, invigorating her very soul. When at last she let the power return to its rightful place in the sky, there was nothing left of Victor Creed but his adamantium skeleton.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue set Gambit down gently on the ground, off to the side of the main activity. He flashed her a smile, and she could not help but smile back, despite the carnage that ensued around them. For a brief moment, she felt a fleeting hope, a moment completely removed from the events around her. A feeling that everything was going to be all right. And then she saw Magneto's form floating rapidly toward the battle.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Colossus traded blow for mighty blow against the Juggernaut, keeping his attention focused solely on him. If he could simply keep him away from the rest of the battle until the X-Men had taken care of the other members of the Brotherhood, the Juggernaut was likely to leave. He had never been much of a killer, and Colossus was surprised that he had accompanied the Brotherhood at all. Distracted for a moment by his thoughts, the Juggernaut landed a solid blow to his jaw, sending him flying across the hill. He hit the ground, hard, leaving a furrow in the soft earth as he skidded to a halt.  
  
"Ha! Caught ya nappin, big guy!," Juggernaut called gleefully, quickly closing the distance between them. Colossus shook his head, trying to clear it, and then smiled as he saw a form come into focus just behind Cain Marko's massive form.  
  
"Speaking of napping," came Shadowcat's voice from behind the behemoth, "say goodnight, Cain!" Phasing her arm through his helmet, she passed her hand through his spinal cord, the resulting scrambled electrons rendering the Juggernaut unconscious.   
  
The ground shook terribly as he feel, attracting the attention of several people fighting nearby. A split second later, Spiral was there, facing off in front of Kitty.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Firestar was nearly at the end of her rope. She fought valiantly against the exhaustion of her body, forcing herself to concentrate on keeping her power at full force. If she hesitated, even for a second, Havok's power would bust free and take out several X-Men, including herself.  
  
It was nothing so much as a battle of wills, her microwave blast holding back his raw plasma energy. They had reached a stalemate five minutes ago, and they had been locked in this contest of will ever since. Sweat streamed down her face as she clenched her teeth and bore down hard, hoping to turn back his power even for a moment. To her credit, it seemed to push him backward just a bit, and then he increased his own power, regaining the ground he had lost. She strained as her muscles began to tremble with fatigue. Her source of power was not limitless, it depended solely on how much endurance she had, how much strain she could take. Havok's power, however, was fueled endlessly by the sun, and though it was blocked from view at the moment by Storm's furious weather, she knew he could store almost endless amounts of solar energy in his body.   
  
She could feel her control beginning to slip as the microwave cocoon she had formed around his plasma weakened, his white hot blast slowly creeping closer and closer to her. Oh God, I've failed, was all she could think as the microwave shield gave way completely.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *             
  
"Angel!," Bobby screamed at the top of his lungs. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as he watched her form fall from the sky, plasma blast catching up to it despite the speed with which she fell. He had no time to think as he unleashed a massive ice blast at the plasma wave, freezing it solid just as it enveloped her form. Too late, too late, his mind yammered at him even as he ran to where the chunk of ice had hit the ground.  
  
Havok turned as he cried out, a cruel smile on his face. "Don't worry, Iceman. Where she's gone, you'll shortly follow."  
  
Even before he had finished speaking, Bobby erected an ice shield around him, protecting him from the ensuing blast. He didn't even flinch as the ice began to rapidly melt beneath the solar power that pulsed from Havok. Instead, he concentrated every fiber of his being on one objective. Killing the man who had killed the woman he loved.  
  
Havok was still grinning as the ice shield began to melt. I have you now, he thought, turning up the power of his blast and trying to shatter the encasement. Then, suddenly, everything slowed down. The world seemed to be growing fuzzy, and his plasma blast began to ebb dangerously. One hand came up to clutch helplessly at his throat, trying to croak out a curse against Bobby even as he fell backward into unconsciousness.  
  
A moment later, the ice shield burst open, shattering into a million diamond-like fragments, and Bobby stepped out, his expression so hard it might have been carved from stone. With quick strides, he moved to Havok's unconscious body, kicking him hard in the ribs. "Wake up, you bastard. I didn't knock you out that cold."  
  
Havok's eyes fluttered open. "Neat trick, freezing the bloodflow to my brain like that. You should have kept going, though." He raised his arms to blast Bobby into oblivion, and was left open-mouthed in shock as absolutely nothing happened.  
  
"No powers," came Leeches gravelly little voice from behind Havok's head. Bobby looked up to see him and Marrow just behind Havok's prone form, rage claiming his heart as he realized that Leech had robbed him of his opportunity to kill this man by taking all their powers.  
  
Before he could speak, though, Marrow moved to his side, with graceful, cat-like steps. "Good thing I keep a couple of these handy," she said without smiling as she handed him a bone shard. He took it from her, studying the look in her eyes. For one brief moment, they completely understood each other, the need for revenge uniting them. She nodded once and stepped back, turning her back and walking away. Leech followed behind her and Havok and Bobby were left alone.  
  
Havok began to laugh as he watched Bobby run his hand along the length of the bone fragment. "You don't have the guts, Iceman."  
  
The expression on his face was one of almost ridiculous surprise as he died, the bone fragment shoved straight through his heart.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Lasher fell back from the blurring blows Psylocke kept landing on him. Try as he might, he could not seem to hit her with his energy tendrils, she was just too damned fast. He supposed he was lucky that his own fighting skill was pretty high, or he would have been dead a long time ago. He couldn't help but wonder though, why it was that she didn't use her psionic powers against him. She seemed to favor her fists and feet instead, and he could see why she might. She was as graceful and deadly as a jungle cat, a living weapon honed to perfection by the deadliest assassins in the world. But it was more than that…she enjoyed this, he realized. She preferred to fight rather than take out an opponent from a distance, to kill them with her bare hands. And if he wasn't careful, she was going to do just that.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Shadowcat phased instinctively as Spiral's whirling swords came for her, ducking just as instinctively despite her intangible state. She realized how lucky she was that she had when one sword cut through her arm despite her being phased. Crying out, she cupped a hand over her arm to staunch the bloodflow, her eyes wide with surprise. Magic, she thought, the blade must be magic, like Illyana's was. Almost panicking as Spiral moved in, all six weapons poised, she tried desperately to focus on her ninja training. So the witch could cut her, it wouldn't matter if she was phased or not, the goal was to keep her from touching her at all. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and fell into her fighting stance. Then Colossus stepped between them.  
  
"You should not have hurt her, Spiral," was all Piotr said, his voice grim as he drew back his fist.  
  
"You should not be so cocky," was all Spiral said in response, all six blades whirring to life.  
  
Piotr did not so much as flinch, bringing his fist forward to connect with her smirking face, confident in the fact that her blades could not pierce his armored skin. His fist took her in the jaw, hurtling her backward, but not before three of her six blades sank deep into his mid-section, cutting through the steel like melted butter.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Kitty was on Spiral before she even had a chance to realize she had landed. The next sensation the mad dancer knew was excruciating pain as one of her six hands seemed to explode and be crushed at the same time.  
  
"Let's see how well you can fight without any hands, witch," Kitty spat as she continued phase all of Spiral's hands into the ground, leaving her as trapped as fly in a spiders web.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Storm surveyed the battle from above, taking stock of the situation. She had seen Firestar go down, but she couldn't think about that just now, just as she couldn't think about Logan slowly regenerating where she had placed him after killing Sabretooth. Her team needed her, and she meant to be there for them.   
  
Flying down toward the ground, she skimmed toward where Dazzler and the Scarlet Witch were fighting Nightcrawler. She could not help but smile as she saw that the Scarlet Witch's probability affecting ability had a curious effect on Nightcrawler, sending him farther and farther away from them even as he tried to teleport up and kill them. The situation seemed well in hand, despite the loss of Firestar, the team was holding their own quite well. Her satisfaction warred with her grief briefly, and then won out. They were succeeding…if only….her thought trailed off and her heart seemed to freeze in her chest as she saw the red clad figure floating directly toward her, magnetic bubble supporting his weight effortlessly.  
  
Every shred of satisfaction she had possessed suddenly drained from her, and she was left with only mind-numbing fear as she realized the true battle had only just begun.  
  



	21. TDOAD Chapter 20: Zero Hour

CHAPTER 20: ZERO HOUR  
  
"Infidels!," Magneto's voice spat hatefully, his eyes burning red as embers as he touched down on the ground. "I should strike each and every one of you down for the mockery you have made of the Brotherhood today."  
  
For a split second that seemed to stretch into eternity, everyone stopped moving, their faces turning as one toward the man they all feared more than death itself.  
  
Psylocke cowered only momentarily before slinking up next her lord and master and falling to her knees before him. He paid no attention to her, his burning gaze fixed on the battlefield, each person staring back in utter, complete fear. He raised one fist high in the air, drawing the attention of everyone present as their eyes followed it into the sky. He held it there for a long, tense moment, as if he expected everyone to simply stand there and ponder what he would do next, but the X-Men were already moving.  
  
They made it about five steps before his upraised hand clenched into a fist, causing each and every one of them to fall to the ground, clutching their bodies in agony as the magnetic particles of the very air began to crush them. The surviving members of the Brotherhood regrouped, smiles lighting their faces as they saw their enemies fall. The Juggernaut rose sluggishly from the ground, regaining consciousness through the Shadow Kings manipulations while Spiral struggled to free herself from her bonds of earth.  
  
Storm alone fought against the magnetic pressure which threatened to crush her like a vice, forcing her head to rise and meet the Shadow Kings fierce glare. Blood trickled freely from her nose, and it was clear that the effort cost her dearly, but she did not relent as her face curled up into a snarl. "You shall never have dominion over me, Amahl," she proclaimed, trying to force her body to rise.  
  
"Oh, dear Ororo, you have always struggled hardest against my wishes. But no longer. Today, I put an end to you and your vaunted X-Men." His gaze fell on her alone, and his fist clenched even tighter as he pulled his arm in against his side.  
  
Storm fell with a cry, her form curling up into a fetal position as blood began to leak from every orifice of her body. It was clear to everyone present that her bare force of will was the only thing keeping her alive.   
  
It was in that moment that Rogue chose to act.  
  
Quicker than lightning, she moved, grabbing hold of Psylockes arm as she stood unsuspecting at her masters side, drawing the power out her body with more speed than anyone had ever suspected she possessed. A mere second later, Psylocke lay unconscious and Rogue ignited a crackling, pink-purple psi-knife from her right hand. In the few seconds all these actions took, the Shadow King turned, his attention falling from Storm to Rogue, and Rogue found the look of surprise on his face most satisfying as she plunged the psi-knife into his head without pause.  
  
The man who had been Magneto screamed at the top of his lungs, but did not fall to the ground, refusing to give in to the burning sensation of his synapses. Rogue kept the psi-knife embedded deeply, using the skin-to-skin contact of her fist against his forehead to begin drawing his essence out. It was harder than she expected; the pain Psylockes psi-knife was causing reflecting back into her own mind through their link, but she struggled on, knowing all their lives depended on this…on her.  
  
Only now, while his mind was in such a state of disarray could she sort through it and draw forth the essence of the Shadow King. He was almost mercurial though, and each time she thought she had found him, he slipped away again. She pushed out the memories that were those of the men called Magnus and Joseph, blocking their powers out as well. Taking the Shadow Kings essence would be more than she could handle as it was, she could not afford to overdo it and take the other, residual memories as well. Sweat began to bead on her forehead from sheer effort as she fought to grab hold of him. The pain was becoming overwhelming, like white-hot knives in her skull, each synapse and nerve screaming with the unnatural torment. At some point, her own screams joined those of the Shadow King, and they wailed their anguish at the skies together.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Gambit watched tensely from his place nearby, hands tightening and twisting on his bo staff nervously. She had warned him it would be this way; that the pain would cause her to cry out. She had also warned him not to interfere, no matter what happened. If she died, so be it; this was the only way they could be rid of the Shadow King once and for all. In his mind, he knew that, it even made sense…but in his heart, all he saw was the woman he loved with all his heart in terrible, agonizing pain. He fought against his instincts with every fiber of his being, forcing himself to hold steady and wait, reminding himself that he had his own part to play in this plan. When Nightcrawler teleported in next to Rogue mere seconds later, it was a most welcome distraction.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Nightcrawler had barely gotten his mouth open to speak when Gambit slammed into his side feet first, the kick stealing all the breath from his lungs. Even as he fell and gasped for air, he tried to teleport out, but with the pain and lack of concentration, his abilities seemed to be failing him.  
  
"Get up, Kurt," Gambit said stonily, raising his bo staff for another strike. "Or I kill you where you lay."  
  
The air slowly returning to his lungs, Nightcrawler began to chuckle in short coughing bursts, and somewhere in the back of his mind he dimly realized that several of his ribs were probably broken, resulting in a lung puncture. But he took no note of it at the time, struggling to his knees and then to his feet, drawing two swords from his sides. A third sword was held curled in the fork of his tail, and the smile on his face was almost frightening as he moved in toward Gambit, eyes ablaze.  
  
He's insane, Gambit thought, already bringing his bo staff up to block two of the sword arcs and rolling to avoid the third blow. Nightcrawler continued moving in, forcing Gambit to back up and put more distance between them. Not only did Kurt have the advantage of three weapons and incredible agility, but he fought with the single-mindedness of one who had been brainwashed to fulfill only one objective. As a sword tip rushed past his nose, missing it by mere centimeters, the cajun was forced to admit that he might just be outmatched.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue and the Shadow Kings screams rose in pitch, seeming to build to a crescendo as they struggled against each other, locked in a deadly embrace. With a supreme effort, Rogue thrust herself farther into the mind that had been Magnetos, pushing down into the very center core of his consciousness. There! She snagged hold of his shadowy essence with every bit of will she possessed, dragging it kicking and screaming into her soul.   
  
You're mine, Amahl Farouk, she thought to herself, a smug smile twisting her face as she drew the last of the soul that was the Shadow King into her body.  
  
No, you are MINE! a voice blasted inside her head, and then she could feel him. Like an inky blackness, a blight upon her soul, twisting her inside out. She could feel him filling her, seeping into her mind like a dark fog, sapping her will and deadening her senses as he began to absorb her. She clung desperately to the thread of life that was still her own, the very essence that made her who she was, trying to protect it from him even as she continued to pull him into her.  
  
With a wrenching cry, she yanked free the last of his essence, breaking the cord and connection between them, consuming him as completely as he was now trying to consume her. Unable to help herself, she staggered backwards, almost drunk with power and overwhelmed by his psyche. She collapsed to the ground without a further sound, the world around her rapidly swimming toward blackness.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Gambit saw Rogue go down. He knew, that this too, was part of the plan, and he intended to use it for all it was worth. He began to maneuver away from Nightcrawler again, backing toward the direction of Magneto and Rogue's limp forms, almost imperceptibly leading their battle there. Parrying a flurry of blows, he barely managed to keep his hide intact as Kurt's swords sliced the air all around him, whistling through the air in a quick song of bloodlust. Just a few more steps, Remy, he thought as he continued to backpedal, just a few more…  
  
He almost tripped over her still form before he realized he was on top of her. Pivoting on one foot, he spun, bringing his bo staff around to block any incoming blows. In one smooth motion he lifted Rogue's body from the ground and spun back to face his attacker.  
  
"Only a true coward would use a defenseless woman as a shield," Nightcrawler hissed mockingly.  
  
"More like a weapon, mon ami," Gambit shot back, bringing Rogue's arm up and shoving the still crackling psi-knife into Kurt's brain. Gambit grunted in satisfaction as his opponent collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.  
  
He didn't waste a moment gloating, though, as he carried Rogue farther away from Nightcrawler and Magneto's unconscious bodies and gently laid her down in the grass. Sitting down on his knees and bending down over her, he gently stroked her cheek with one gloved finger, trying to soothe the lines of tension from her face as she fought her inner battle. "C'mon chere…come back to me," he whispered fervently.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
From a distance, Kitty saw Nightcrawler go down, a victim of Rogue's stolen psi-blade. She had no idea why Rogue and Gambit seemed to be helping them, but she certainly wasn't going to question it at this point. With something almost like sick fascination, she pulled herself away from Colossus' side. She had already tended to his wounds, and he seemed to be doing fairly well despite the punctures to his armor.  
  
"Katya…," he called as she rose. "Where are you going?"  
  
"To finish it," she replied, her voice cold as ice as she turned her back on him and walked toward the crest of the hill where Nightcrawler lay.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Psylocke cursed as loudly as she could as she awoke, holding her still swimming head tightly in her hands. Rogues power sure packed a punch, she thought, despite the fact that no physical harm was done. At least it doesn't last long, she realized as her head began to clear. She leapt to her feet, dark purple eyes already darting over the field as she searched for Rogue. "Where are you, you damned mud-rat," she muttered under her breath.  
  
"Hello, Betsy," a voice from behind answered her, rough and gravelly in its texture, nothing like Rogues lilting southern voice. She recognized him as soon as he spoke, the voice touching off several old memories of the times they had spent together, fighting side by side. For a time, they had almost been partners while separated from the rest of the X-Men. But today, on this field, she knew she faced him at last, finally and completely, as an enemy.  
  
"Hello, Logan," she replied, her voice calm and even, just barely clipped with her British accent.  
  
He nodded once, and then popped his adamantium claws with an almost silent "snikt" sound. "Don't know why you did what you done, darlin', an' I suppose it don't really matter. But it ends here, today, one way or the other."  
  
"Is that so?," she asked quietly, inclining her head slightly as if to hear him better.  
  
He nodded solemnly, and in his dark eyes she could see the regret he felt inside. They had been close friends once, partners even, and Logan was nothing if not loyal and honor-bound. But he would also do what he had to do, she could see that in his eyes as well. Even if it meant killing her.  
  
"Then let's get to it, shall we?," she asked almost cordially, firing her psi-knife to life.  
  
He stood, looking at her for just a moment longer, and Betsy felt a chill run down her spine as she realized he was looking at her as if it would be for the last time.  
  



	22. TDOAD Chapter 21: Glimmer

CHAPTER 21: GLIMMER  
  
"Well…isn't this a pretty picture?," Marrow asked mockingly, the ever sly smile still toying at her lips as she looked down upon Storm.  
  
Storm coughed and spit blood, glaring balefully at the younger Morlock as she paced around her like a cat closing in on its prey. "Come to gloat, Marrow?," she croaked, her cracking tone giving evidence the great strain it cost her just to speak.  
  
"Any other time…? Absolutely," the Morlock replied, grinning as she finally stopping her pacing. "But not today. Today I said I would help, and I will." Marrow stepped aside to reveal the Morlock healer coming up behind her.   
  
"But the team--," Storm began to protest.  
  
"Will live or die without you, Wind Rider," Marrow interrupted. "Or would you prefer to die for your cause today, rather than wait a few minutes?," she asked almost casually.  
  
Storm said nothing as she collapsed back onto the ground, allowing the Morlock healer to begin his work, and Marrow's cat-like grin grew even wider.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Nightcrawler looked to be in bad shape as Kitty crested the hill. He had only risen to he knees, no farther, and he held his head in his hands like a repentant sinner, as if all the woes of the world rested on his shoulders. Kitty hardened her heart as she approached, already phasing though he held no weapons, and…stopped…cold.  
  
He had lifted his eyes to look at her, as if sensing her presence, and in their golden depths, she saw the soul of the man she had once loved like a brother. The soul of a man who cared beyond all caring, whose heart had once been filled with light and laughter. Tears streaked his blue furred face as he turned his eyes up toward her, and in his expression, she saw a depth of regret she could not even begin to fathom.  
  
"Katchzen…," he whispered, his voice filled with thick emotion. "Mein Gott! What have I done?"   
  
Even his voice was different, she thought, as she hesitated just a few steps away. Was it some sort of trick, she wondered, another of the Shadow Kings delicious torments whipped up for her benefit? Her dark brown eyes narrowed as she took in the measure of him.  
  
"Don't come any closer," he gasped, holding out one hand to ward her away. "I..don't know…how much longer I can keep it in check. I can..feel..the madness trying to claim me again."  
  
Unable to help herself, she took a step forward as he spoke, his voice so filled with pain that she could not ignore it.  
  
"No!," he cried, louder this time, and his hand came out more forcefully. "I do not want to hurt you Katchzen…ever…again." His voice broke, and she could see he was trembling, though with effort or emotion, she did not know. "Whatever the Shadow King did to my mind years ago is undone by Psylockes blade…for the moment. I remember…I remember everything," he gasped, the tears starting anew. "To you…to Amanda…oh..my love, my friends, please forgive me!," he pleaded aloud, raising his hands to the sky as if in supplication.  
  
"Oh God…Kurt. It really is you," she whispered, kneeling down beside him despite his warnings. She was so stunned she didn't know what to feel, or even to think. All she knew was that this man who had once been like her brother, was at last almost whole again.  
  
"You…you came up here to kill me, didn't you?," he asked, his voice bereft of accusation. It was almost more of a statement than a question.  
  
She was struck speechless. She had come up here expecting to confront a monster, and here instead was her dearest friend before her. "I…well…yes," she admitted reluctantly. "But that was before…now that you're well again though…," she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence, unable to even comprehend what was happening.  
  
"I…am not, Katch—AUGH!," he cried out suddenly in pain, pressing his hands hard against his temples, as if trying to drive out the thoughts inside. "Already I feel it returning..I…can't control myself much longer…"  
  
"Kurt…no, if you're okay now then there's got to be a way to reverse the process--"  
  
"Katchzen," he began quietly cutting her off. "Even if I could be cured, could you ever forgive me? Could anyone ever forgive me for the atrocities I have committed over the last two years?"  
  
Kitty sat silently, having no answer for his question, but one lone tear rolled down her cheek.  
  
"And…I could not forgive myself," he said, more firmly, as if that answered both of his previous questions. "You came up here to kill a monster…but that is not your cross to bear, my dear…it is mine alone."  
  
She understood his meaning immediately. "Kurt, NO! You can't just give up! Not now! Not after you've made this step! Maybe we can get Psylocke to--"  
  
"Kitty," he said solemnly, taking her by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her. "Go. I do not want you to have to see this."  
  
"No, Kurt! I won't just leave you--"  
  
"GO!," he snarled, throwing her away from him. "Or would you rather I tried to cleave your heart in two a second time?"  
  
She could see the madness swirling within his yellow eyes, fighting for domination over his soul. He had always been possessed of such a noble spirit, holding honor and loyalty as the highest of his morals. He could never live with the cold-blooded murders that stained his hands now, despite the fact that the Shadow King was ultimately responsible for them. He could never bear the weight of the deaths that hung over his head. Kurt had been made for gentler things.  
  
Tears streamed down her face as she stared at him, a million emotions seeming to tear her soul apart all at once. She tried to speak, to tell him that she understood, but the words wouldn't come as easily as the tears. She heaved a choking sob and clasped a hand over her face as she turned and ran down the hill.  
  
Kurt watched her go, and then turned, picking up one of his discarded swords. "Father, forgive me for all my sins," he pleaded as he turned his face up toward the sky, eyes closing as he raised the sword high into the air. He held the hilt with both hands as he turned the point toward his chest, and for a moment, the persona that was not his relented in its battle with his psyche. For a moment, Kurt was granted total peace, and if not for the bloody memories which tore at his heart, he might have even smiled. "Amanda, my love…forgive me…forgive me," he pleaded in a broken whisper, the tears slipping from behind his eyelids.  
  
And then, Kurt Wagner, once again possessed of his own mind and soul, raised the sword to its highest point and brought it home…straight through his heart.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Psylocke fell back as Wolverines claws took her in the side, gasping in pain as a good portion of her flesh went with them. Already she bled from more than a dozen wounds, and though she had managed to land several good blows of her own, nothing seemed to stop him. Or even slow him.   
  
She crouched defensively, bringing her Kitana up to guard. It was rare that she used her sword, normally she preferred to take out opponents with her fists and psi-blade, but against Wolverine, she would have little chance of doing that. She pressed one hand against her wounded side, trying to hold back the flow of blood that gushed forth from it, raising her chin high in defiance. She was unwilling to admit defeat even now, despite the fact that the wound was obviously mortal; she would fight until the end.  
  
Wolverine closed in, and she let him almost reach her before she sprang forward with a loud cry, shoving her sword blade completely through his mid-section, her head almost leaning on his shoulder as she watched its point exit through his back. The only clear thought left in her mind was that she had missed his heart.  
  
Wolverine stood there, letting her rest against him for a moment, both of them breathing heavily from the exertion of the fight. Despite what she had become, despite their differences, at least in battle they were both bound by the same Japanese traditions. They both understood what was to happen next, all that remained was how it was to be done.  
  
"Make it fast," she whispered, leaning up to speak into his ear. Her consciousness was already quickly fading as more of her lifesblood spilled out onto the ground…soon she would be gone anyway…but not like that…not from a lingering wound. She would die clean, in battle, with her honor intact. What little she had left, anyway.  
  
"Only for you, Betts," he whispered back, and a moment later she felt his claws pierce her chest.  
  
And then there was only blackness.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue could hear nothing beyond the roaring storm in her mind, all senses lost in its screaming fury. What had she been thinking? Thinking that she could control this monsters psyche? Now he would simply possess her instead, and nothing would change. Her sacrifice would be all for naught. And the children..oh…the children.   
  
She could not even fight anymore, she could feel herself slipping away into darkness as the Shadow King became more real, became her. What would it be like, she wondered, to be a prisoner in her own body?  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Storm finally rose to her feet on the battlefield, feeling only a little worse for the wear after the Morlock healers attentions. Quickly, she made note of everything happening about her, trying to see where she was needed most, and froze in place as her eyes fell on the happenings atop the hill.  
  
Magneto was slowly rising to his feet, hand held to his head as if in pain, and even from here, she could see the fires of rage that burned in his eyes.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
The Shadow King was smiling as he ingrained himself into Rogue's mind. He loved the powerful feeling of this body, it would serve him well. Though not as well Magnus' had, he had to admit, but that body was not likely to survive the battle. He flexed the new muscles and felt the strength in them respond. Yes, this would do well until he could get back to Joseph's body at the citadel.  
  
He felt Rogue's consciousness trying to retaliate, to push him from his ascension. With but a thought, he shoved her downward, pushing her to the furthest corner of his new mind. Arrogant wench, he thought, trying to contain the power of the Shadow King in her body. She really ought to have known better. There was almost nothing to bar his way; for all of Rogue's prowess and defenses in her mind, she was hardly practiced with using them. She had always avoided thinking to heavily about anything when she still could not control her power, and even now, she seemed to concentrate on their potential very little. Besides it was he who had taught her how to use her mind in the first place; taking out the defenses she had was nothing.  
  
He felt her slipping away, and his smile grew. Now there was nothing to stand in his way. He would reign as supreme as ever.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Storm was after Magneto immediately, flying in like a bullet toward his form. Hoping to catch him off guard while he was still groggy, she inwardly cursed as she saw his eyes fall on her and his hand flex with the use of his power. Bracing herself for the impact with the ground, she gritted her teeth.  
  
A moment later, she was surprised to find herself still floating in mid-air, encapsulated in a magnetic bubble and face to face with Magneto.  
  
"We meet again, Storm," he spoke raspily. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?" He looked at his surroundings with a questioning expression, as if unsure as to where he was or how he had gotten here, and it only took a moment for Storm to figure out why.  
  
"By the Goddess," she gasped, blue eyes wide. "Magnus…you've returned."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
The Shadow King was rapidly pushing his new mind toward consciousness, completely assured of his victory and already plotting the destruction of his foes as he did. With Psylocke by his side and no other telepaths available, they could never truly be rid of him, he thought smugly.  
  
If anyone had been able to feel the surprise that came over him as two new consciousness' flared to life within him, they would have laughed aloud.  
  
No…he screamed inside himself as he felt their touch, the powerful probe of telepathy that almost seemed to bury him beneath its wake. The thoughts were almost primal with their limited development, but the sheer power of them more than made up for experience. Who is arrogant now? His own voice mocked him from within. Wailing in anguish, Amahl Farouk tried desperately to cling to his mortal shell as the two children began to force him from it.  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Storm, Magneto and Gambit all hovered over Rogue's body, waiting for some sign of life. No words needed to be spoken in that moment, they all knew the fate of the world rested in the vessel of this one, brave woman. There had been no change in her state for several minutes, thus, they were completely unprepared for what happened next.  
  
With an inhuman wail, an almost intangible being was forced free from her body, rising into the air in twisting throes of pain. It was vaguely humanoid in shape, wisps of nearly invisible material swirling around in a maelstrom of agony, its face out of focus and constantly changing. But none of them needed to see its face to recognize its identity. Recovering from their initial surprise, they instantly turned on it, focusing all of their energy on destroying it before it could escape.  
  
Storm's first lightning blast seemed to shatter it into a thousand pieces, while Gambit's charged playing card served to drive it even further apart. Magnus seized the opportunity then, using his magnetic abilities to move the pieces of its corporeal being farther apart and refusing to let them reform. Gritting his teeth, face set in a grim cast, he concentrated all of his considerable might on each individual atom, taking every single one and scattering it to the wind in a separate direction. Slowly, agonizing, with painstaking effort, his dismembered the beings corporeal energy body, ignoring the rapidly fading psionic scream inside his mind. When at last he began to unravel even the individual atoms, it faded altogether, dying out with a whimpering moan…and then nothing.  
  
Sweating and shaking, the once and future master of magnetism sank gratefully to his knees, the effort nearly having drained him. With a faint smile, he spoke the words he had longed to hear for the past two years or more. "It is done."  
  
*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue stirred, groaning as a massive headache set in, seeming to seize her entire brain in its painful grasp. The first thing it made her aware of was that she was still alive, and rapidly following that was the thought that she could no longer feel the Shadow King inside of her. Emerald green eyes snapping open, she sat up suddenly, ignoring the sudden wave of pain it sent through her mind as she tried to focus on those around her. The first thing she saw was Gambit's smiling face, staring at her tenderly.  
  
Throwing her arms around him, she was still trying to form the words when he answered her unasked question. "It's done, chere. He gone for good dis time."  
  
"But..how?," she whispered shakily, drawing back to look at him. "Ah couldn't hold him…he had me beat."  
  
"Something expelled him from your body," came a familiar voice from nearby, a voice she had thought never to hear again.  
  
"Magneto?," she whispered in awe, turning to look at the white-haired man standing behind her, his rugged face as grim and handsome as she remembered. "You're alive!"  
  
He nodded, the faint smile returning as she stated the obvious. "Yes, so it would seem. With the Shadow Kings essence removed from my body, my mind finally had the chance to regain precedence. Had he not joined Joseph's mental energy with my own, I might never have been healed…but now it seems I am a whole man again, at last."  
  
She nodded, trying to take in the startling information he presented as he mind throbbed and seemed to twist inside her skull. With a faint moan, she placed a hand to her head. "Whatever he did to me, it sure packed one whallop of a punch." Distantly wishing that she were a telepath, she turned her awareness inward, hoping to seek out the source of the pain.  
  
And in that very moment, it began to fade. With something like surprise, she felt the touch of two minds flutter against hers, their thoughts primitive and almost ethereal. Her awareness seemed to suddenly expand, and she aware of everything within her body; the pounding of her heart, the intake of breath through her lungs, the sound of blood rushing through her veins, the two smaller heartbeats of the children in her womb and their rudimentary thoughts. Dimly, she realized that she was seeing through their senses.   
  
With a broad smile that lent beauty to her tears of happiness, she touched her stomach fondly. "I can feel them," she whispered, almost to herself. Telepaths, she thought, wondering at the feelings that word stirred within her; hope, joy, happiness…and just a touch of fear. But that didn't matter right now. Throwing her arms around Gambit, she began crying happily, for perhaps the first time in her life. "Oh, Remy, I can feel them," she whispered joyously.  
  



	23. TDOAD: Epilogue

EPILOGUE  
  
They stood atop the hill, all of them gathered tightly around the fresh graves of the dead.   
  
"And so at last, all of the X-Men have returned home," Storm said quietly as she threw a handful of dirt into each of the graves. Nightcrawler, Psylocke, Firestar, Havok, all were to be buried here, in the place that was their home once.   
  
Kitty stood next to Piotr, gripping his arm tightly as the tears flowed freely down her face, and Logan stood on her other side, one hand on her shoulder, his own visage grim. Gambit, Rogue and Magneto all stood a bit further back, behind all of the remaining X-Men. The Morlocks were not present this morning, but they were not forgotten as the ceremony came to a close.   
  
Bobby stood gripping his elbows tightly against his body, the tears in his eyes held back by sheer force of will. He already missed Angelica more than he had ever thought possible. Even the deaths of the original X-Men hadn't hit him this hard. He supposed he should be grateful that the casualties had been so low on their side, but somehow, that was cold comfort.   
  
Alison's voice rang high and clear above the cool morning air, bringing goose bumps to his skin.   
  
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound…"   
  
The tears began to break free as she continued her song.   
  
*           *          *           *           *           *           *           *          *           *          *   
  
Magneto clasped Storms hand warmly and smiled, just slightly, as he bid her goodbye.   
  
"Are you sure you will not stay, Magnus? We could certainly use the help, what with all of the factions of the Brotherhood still left behind."   
  
He slowly shook his head. "I cannot, Ororo. But rest assured that I will be following my own agenda to help right the world, albeit apart from the team."   
  
She nodded, knowing that Magnus would never be comfortable here with Charles' ghost hanging over him, but was disappointed nonetheless. They certainly could have used him, and she had always valued and respected Magnus' opinions when he had been part of the team before.   
  
With nothing left to say to him, she turned then to Gambit and Rogue, who also stood by the door. "And what of you two? You, above all, have proved that you deserve a place among us through your actions in the final battle, despite the past."   
  
Rogue glanced uncertainly to Gambit, who cocked his head just slightly, as if to say it mattered not to him. She returned her gaze to Storm, looking a bit uncomfortable. "That may be true, but Ah don't feel as if Ah'm worthy of it. There's too much blood on mah hands…too many bad memories here," she said with a furtive glance around the mansion. "Ah may deserve it, but it would never feel right." Like they say, she thought wryly to herself, you can never go home again.   
  
Again, Storm nodded, understanding completely. In truth, she would have felt awkward having Rogue stay here, despite the fact that she had proved herself an ally. But if Rogue went, so did Gambit, and he at least, she would miss. "So what will you do now?"   
  
Rogue glanced at Gambit again, her smile finally appearing. But instead of answering, she looked instead to Magnus, as if asking for his approval.   
  
He cleared his throat and spoke up "They will be going with me. For though I do not belong among the X-Men now, there is much work to be done in putting this world back together. I go forth to gather mutants from all over the world to build a new team, Rogue and Gambit being the first of those."   
  
"Add one more to that list," came a voice from behind the group.   
  
Storm turned, looking surprised as she recognized Robert's voice. "Robert, you would leave as well?"   
  
"Too many ghosts here for me stay, right now, Ororo." He smiled faintly and hugged her tight, much to her surprise and chagrin. But after a moment, she relented to the embrace and hugged him back warmly. "We shall miss you," she whispered close to his ear.   
  
"We would be glad to have you, Robert," Magnus agreed, his blue-gray eyes seeming to brighten.   
  
"Great…someone else who calls me Robert," Bobby muttered under his breath, just a hint of his normal grin returning.   
  
Storm smiled and tried not to sigh. There would be others to replace those they had lost, and if Magnus was going to be about the world, she had little doubt that he would be instrumental in keeping things under control. "Well, the world shall have need of us all, wherever we may be. I have heard that Sebastian Shaw has re-released the Sentinels upon humanity and mutant alike."  
  
Magnus set his jaw grimly, blue-gray eyes going cold and hard. "Then I know what my first mission shall be."   
  
"Ours, as well," Storm nodded in agreement. "Charles would be so very happy, if he were here today, Magnus." She smiled and met his eyes warmly. "Wherever we go, whatever we do, we shall always be X-Men at heart. I wish you the best of luck."   
  
Magnus lowered his face slightly from hers, the mention of Charles bringing back too many painful memories. "I wish he were here," he said quietly, thinking to himself that he would have liked to have made final peace with his old friend. Then he shook off the melancholy feeling, and met Storms gaze again. "Thank you, Ororo. The best to you, as well. We shall see each other again."   
  
And then, there was nothing left to say except goodbye.   
  
*           *          *          *          *           *           *           *           *           *           *   
  
Kitty watched them go from her bedroom window, mixed emotions swirling through her. She was terribly saddened by the events of the last two days…and yet, for the first time since that horrible night over two years ago, she could sleep in peace. A faint, sad smile playing about her lips, she tore her gaze away from those who were departing and moved toward the bed where Piotr lay resting, recovering from his wounds.   
  
She watched him lovingly for a long moment, and then crawled into bed next to him, kissing him gently on the cheek.   
  
*           *           *.          *.          *.          *.          *.          *.          *.          *.          *.  
  
"So what do ya think, darlin'?," Wolverine asked as Storm returned from seeing off their friends.   
  
She smiled wryly and went to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I think, for the first time, that we might actually be alright."   
  
He smiled back and leaned in to kiss her.   
  
*           *          *          *          *           *           *           *           *           *           *  
  
Rogue squeezed Gambits hand as they flew over New York, courtesy of Magneto's magnetic bubble.   
  
"God...it's just horrible," she gasped, looking at the extent of the damage to the city streets below. "How can anyone survive down there?"   
  
Gambit followed her gaze with his own, taking in the dilapidated and ruined buildings, the rubble, the piles of bodies below in one sweeping glance. "De same way we will, chere," he replied confidently, giving a small wink as he squeezed her hand back.   
  
She smiled slowly and leaned against him, tearing her eyes from the ruined cityscape below and looking to the skies instead. Dawn was just beginning to break, and the sky glowed with a faint pink tinge to the east. It was a beautiful morning, the perfect day for a new beginning she thought. One hand slipped to her belly, and her smile grew as she felt the stirring of the lives inside her respond. If there is any chance for this world, it lies with you two.   
  
Gambit moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, watching the coming dawn over her  
shoulder, neither of them saying a word. There were no words necessary in truth, she knew what the feeling they shared right now was...something she had never truly thought she would feel again. Hope.   
  
FINIS  
  



End file.
